


The Missing Piece

by Aecoris



Series: Missing Piece Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Big Brother Dean, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Bullying, Caring John Winchester, Dean Has Low Self-Esteem, Dyslexia, Gen, Guilty Dean, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Paralysis, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Smoking, Wheelchairs, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aecoris/pseuds/Aecoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story I first published back in 2009. My amazing friend and beta Gabi went through and fixed the silly and obvious mistakes I made and also re-wrote one of the chapters herself to make it seem more realistic. A big thanks to her for all this hard work she put into making the story better!</p><p>In this story, Sam was thought to have died in the fire due to Dean dropping him on his way out of the house by mistake. They end up meeting at a high school when Dean and John are in town because of nearby hunts. The two boys become quick friends and it's eventually found out that not only are they brothers, but Sam's paralysis was due to Dean dropping him. This is the story of how Sam completed and bonded their family together.</p><p>First story in a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  

Most teenagers feel annoyed and tired when they have to start the school day. Others might actually enjoy it because they get to see their friends and gossip about that latest news floating around the halls. However if you were Sam all you felt was terror and loneliness.

Sam dreaded going to school, but he hated going back home even worse. If you could even call that pig-sty house a home. Sam never had a real home, or a real family for that matter. Well, he must have at one point but he spent his whole childhood from what he could remember in an adoption center.

No one had wanted to adopt Sam. The woman that had run the center told him they found him as a six month old baby on the ground, his delicate spine had been damaged. And that's all it took to decide Sam's fate. He had been bound to a wheelchair his whole life, no family had wanted to adopt a kid that couldn't take care of himself.

A family did finally take him in as a foster child, a careless heartless family. They cared for him at first and Sam thought that maybe he would be loved, maybe. But once he hit age eight the family no longer saw him as cute and just stopped caring. He still lived in the house but they left him to fend for himself.

The family kept taking in kids and did the same thing to them as they did to Sam. Most of them ran away once they were old enough, but Sam couldn’t do that. Others stayed just because they had nowhere to go.

His 'foster parents' currently had three younger kids that were living with them. The poor kids had no idea they'd get pushed to the side once they got older. Sam also had two older 'foster brothers', if you could even call them that. They weren't his brothers at all, just two other kids the family had picked up that hadn't run away.

If being ignored like he didn't exist by his foster parents wasn't enough, the older boys picked on Sam endlessly. They would rip up his homework once he was finished, flip him out of his wheelchair and laugh. Going to school wasn't any easier since the jocks here did the same things to Sam. No matter where he went he was either getting stared at, laughed at, or picked on. Sometimes he even wondered what the point was in living. The only thing that kept him going was his dream to one day become a lawyer, but even with that Sam still felt like giving up.

He sighed when he saw the all too familiar group of jocks standing by the big tree in front of the school. He knew there was no use in trying to get away, they would spot him eventually and continue on harassing him.

So Sam just stayed where he was and waited for the inventible. He looked around the school grounds and saw a group of girls talking and laughing, a couple seniors pulling pranks on the freshman, a couple making out on a bench….He knew everyone here, could name off anyone if they asked him, but yet he had no friends.

But then he spotted a kid that he had never seen before. He was standing by the front of the school leaning against the wall. He had a worn leather jacket on and he was smoking a cigarette. For once Sam thought that maybe he wouldn't be the only one who didn't have any friends. But this kid was probably new and he looked like the trouble-making type. He would make friends with the jocks in no time. Sam made a mental note to stay away from the new kid as well.

Just when Sam thought that maybe he wouldn't get tormented today he felt someone punch his shoulder.

"Hey there, Sammy-boy," a familiar voice sneered as the others laughed. Kevin was the 'leader' of the jocks. Not really the leader but the most outspoken and rude one. Sam thought that if Kevin was taken out of the equation the rest of the jocks might just leave him alone.

"What do you want?" he sighed, trying to sound brace but he couldn't keep himself from trembling slightly. Sam saw that the new kid that he saw smoking was now staring at him. Great, just what he needed, someone else to join in on the 'fun'.

"Come on now Sammy. I just want to talk to 'ya." Kevin laughed and Sam could hear a slur in his speech. The kid was drunk and probably all of his goonies were as well.

Sam snorted and shook his head. Could he just get on with the name-calling and public embarrassment already?

"What did you just say to me?!" Kevin snarled suddenly, apparently not happy with Sam's lack of enthusiasm.

"I didn't say anything to you, you drunk creep!" Sam yelled at him in an attempt to defend himself. He knew it wasn't working though when Kevin's face turned red and he clenched his fists.

"I'm gonna teach you a lesson you little cripple!" he bellowed before he punched Sam in the side of the face. Sam winced but didn't dare cry out and give this bully his satisfaction. His minions cheered him on as Jake grabbed Sam and threw him out of his wheelchair. Sam looked up to see Jake looming over him, his fist raised. He closed his eyes to prepare for the onslaught when he heard a voice.

"Hey, you assholes!!" The voice was serious and meant business. Sam turned his head and was greeted with the sight of the new kid storming towards the group that had tormented Sam. On closer inspection Sam could see just how strong the kid looked. He was pretty tall and even with his jacket on you could tell he was well-built. He looked like he was experienced in fighting which was why Sam didn't understand why the kid didn't join in and beat Sam up.

"Who the hell are you?" Kevin called out to the kid who was now only a few feet away from Sam.

"That's none of your business. The thing is, who the hell do you think you are picking on this kid like that??" He growled, and Sam's opinion of this kid changed at once upon hearing this. The kid might look like a trouble-maker with the smoking and leather jacket but he obviously wasn't the bad kind if he wanted to protect Sam from these freaks. Maybe he wasn't a trouble-maker at all.

"Sam's a freak! We're just havin' our daily dose of fun!" Kevin chuckled and Sam saw the new kid's face get darker.

"Well I think you better choose a new activity to have fun you pathetic drunks," he hissed. "I might not make all the right choices in my life but if there's one thing I can't stand it's when jerks like you pick on innocents kids." The severe tone meant business.

"What are you goin' to do 'bout it? Fight all of us? You don't stand a chance!" Kevin hollered with laughter.

"Heh. I could kick all of your asses, you have no idea who you're messin' with you loser."

Kevin was about to say more when a teacher walked outside to see what was going on. "This isn't over," he whispered to the new kid and stormed off with the rest of the freaks. The new kid turned around and knelt down next to Sam, his face much kinder.

"You okay kid?" he asked with concern and offered Sam a hand.

"Yeah…yeah I'm fine," Sam told him but took the offered hand and used it to pull himself up into a sitting position.

"Your lip's bleeding," new-kid pointed out and Sam just laughed.

"It's fine, I've had much worse," he told the kid. "And…thank you. You didn't have to stick up for me like that. You don't even know me."

The kid shook his head. "Sam, I know I didn't have to but I wanted to. Like I said, I can't stand bullies like that. And yeah, I don't know you but maybe we can get to know each other now. My name's Dean."

"Hi." Sam was suddenly embarrassed that the kid had to see him get pushed around like this. Dean didn't seem like the person who would take any crap, and Sam felt pretty wimpy. "Sorry you had to get involved with that. Those kids don't leave me alone."

"Nah, it's fine." Dean smiled. "If they want to pick on you anymore they'll have to go through me. Once I beat the crap outta them I doubt they'll bother you anymore." He realized that Sam was still on the ground. "Uhh, you need a hand up?"

Sam smiled at Dean's awkwardness. He knew the kid didn't know exactly why he was in a wheelchair and if he should help him. "Actually, I'm paralyzed from the waist down, could you just push the chair towards me? I'll be able to lift myself up into it."

Dean's face held a bit of sympathy in it but then it was gone in a flash and he smiled. Sam was grateful for that. He didn't like people feeling bad for him or treating him different. "Sure thing." Dean pushed the chair over to him.

Sam scooted in front of the chair with his back to it and grabbed a hold of the arms. He was used to getting knocked out and having to pull himself back up. But today the grass was wet and slippery and although Sam had put the brakes on the chair slid backwards when he pulled up and he fell onto his back with a thud.

Sam sighed with frustration and went to get up to try again when he felt hands pull him up from under his armpits.

"It's okay, I'll help you," Dean told him. Sam nodded thankfully and was easily lifted off the ground and into his chair.

"Thanks." Sam was even more embarrassed than he had been before.

"It's no problem Sam, really," Dean said with a wave of his hand. "Your parents should buy you a new wheelchair, that one looks ancient."

Sam winced when Dean mentioned the word 'parents' and Dean took notice, immediately understanding.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I…" he started to apologize.

"It's fine. I'm a foster kid. My foster parents don't really see the point in buying me a new one," Sam told Dean, lying just a little.

"That's ridiculous." Dean shook his head while fishing through his coat pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Sam saw how his hands shook as he lit it. "I think you outgrew that one a while ago."

"Actually I just went through a quick growth spurt a couple of months ago. I'm almost six feet now."

Dean eyed Sam as he took a long drag from his cigarette. "Really?" he asked as he blew out smoke. "That's almost as tall as me and you don't look as old as me. How old are you kid?"

"I'm fourteen. I'll be fifteen in May." Sam watched as Dean froze for a moment with a faraway slightly sad look in his eyes. He was going to ask what was wrong when Dean shook his head and smiled.

"Geeze kid, 6 foot before fifteen? You're gonna be a giant. I stopped growing last year at seventeen."

"So, why are you here in November?" Sam asked Dean after a minute. "Did one of your parents get a new job or something?".

Again Dean froze and got another strange look in his eyes. But he quickly covered it as he finished his cigarette and threw it on the ground, smashing it with his boot. "Yeah, something like that. My dad likes to travel a lot. I've been to a lot of different schools." Dean sighed and shook his head. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm probably bugging you and you're probably just waiting for me to get up and go so you can talk with your friends. Sorry about this." He went to get up.

Sam panicked slightly. He liked Dean and he thought that they could be friends. Sam never had a real friend before. "No Dean! You're not bothering me at all. I like talking with you. And I don't have any friends anyway."

Dean stopped as he was getting ready to walk away and turned back to Sam. "Me either," he replied.

"Huh?"

"I don't have any friends either," Dean repeated.

"But you just moved here," Sam pointed out. "You have lots of time…"

"No I mean…I've never really had any friends anywhere I've gone to school."

"Well you said you move around a lot...," Sam tried to tell him.

"No, it's not because of that. A lot of the time I was at a school with more than enough time to make friends. It's just…I don't know. No one wanted to be my friend. I was always the weirdo I guess," Dean explained as he leaned back against the tree behind him.

"Heh, that's weird because it's the same thing with me. People take one look at me and ignore me. The wheelchair and the thrift-store clothes…," Sam mumbled.

"That shouldn't be any reason to ignore you," Dean said. "I mean I can understand with me, people think I'm some horrible person because I look tough and I smoke. I'm actually really surprised that you didn't run away from me."

"Well I can't actually run," Sam said and added in a laugh so Dean would know he was just joking. He felt bad because he actually had judged Dean before he knew him. Dean was the total opposite of what he had expected. "Why would I run away anyway? You're not a bad guy. And the smoking? You think I'd be afraid of that? It's not like you're not allowed to do it, you're 18 right? Those jocks come in drunk every day and see that group of kids over there?" He pointed to a bunch of kids sitting under a tree around a paper bag.

"Those the popular kids I'm guessing?" Dean snorted

"Yeah, and they’re getting high over there. _Before school_. "

"Geeze. Supervision isn't really good at this school I take it." Dean shook his head. "Umm when does school start anyway? My last school started at 7 so that's why I've been here so long."

Sam glanced at his watch. "At 7:40. In about five minutes. I just get here early so I can get away from home."

"Yeah, same here," Dean mumbled. He liked this kid a lot. He barely knew him but he felt like he could tell him anything. And Sam just looked so familiar…there was something about him. It was almost as if he had met Sam before.

They talked for a little while more before the bell rang and they went inside. Sam told Dean where his locker was and Dean went to go look for his. However Dean was back in less than a minute with a look of anger on his face.

"You will not believe who my locker partner is," he hissed. "One of those fuckin' morons that picked on you and he's sharing it with all of his buddies. Locker's all banged up too."

"Man, I hate those guys. You can share with me Dean. My locker partner went to share with a friend."

"Thanks," Dean said, still slightly stunned that he had actually made a friend, and on the first day too!

"You'll have to put your coat in the locker. They don't allow kids to wear them in the school," Sam pointed out while taking off his own jacket and placing it in the locker.

"This school won't let us wear jackets but it doesn't realize there's kids getting high outside?!" Dean said with a huff and a groan. He dug in his coat pocket and found his Nicorette gum that got him through the school day and stuffed it in his jean's pocket. He placed his coat in the locker as well before turning back to Sam.

"Uhh so…my schedule…where is room 226?" he questioned while raising an eyebrow.

"Ughh, you have the crazy teacher for Spanish! Have fun with that!" Sam laughed, remembering from last year just how crazy that guy was. "It's down the hall to the left. Go up the stairs and it should be right there. Hey, can I look at your schedule?"

"Go for it." Dean handed the paper to Sam. "Maybe we'll have some classes together."

Sam looked at the paper and smiled. Dean had to concentrate on breathing evenly for a moment when he saw the dimples. He swore that this kid was what his baby brother would have looked like if he had gotten the chance to live. He had dimples just like those from the few pictures Dean had of him as a baby and it was not helping that this kid's name was Sam as well. It made his heart clench looking at this kid that reminded him of his baby brother. Dean kept pictures of baby Sammy in his wallet all of the time and never took them out. He remembered loving his baby brother as soon as he was born and wanting to protect him. He often wondered how different things would be if his brother had never died. Sammy had just been six months old when the fire started and the demon came. But it was all his fault that Sammy was gone and he would never forgive himself for what he had let happen that day. And he couldn't even visit his brother's grave since a body hadn't been found and the ashes were probably blown away….

"Dean?" He snapped his head back up and saw that Sam was staring at him with concern. This kid may not be his brother but for some reason he felt like he should protect him even though he just met him. There was just something about this kid…

"We have third hour and last hour together!" Sam said in…was that an excited voice?? "And lunch too! Hey, do you want to sit with me in lunch?"

"Yeah! Sure Sam." Dean grinned. "It would be nice to have someone to talk with at lunch for once."

"Yeah, same here." Sam handed Dean his schedule back. "Well, the bell's about to ring but I'll see you in third hour Dean!"

"Yeah, I'll see you then Sam." Dean watched as Sam wheeled down the hall to his class. He silently cursed when he saw how the kids weren't letting him through or giving him the time of day. Sam was such a nice kid he didn't deserve to be treated like that.

* * *

Sam grinned when Dean entered the classroom and Dean waved to him. He walked over to where Sam was sitting at a special desk with no chair attached to it so his wheelchair could fit in. At least the school had enough brains to supply him equipment like that. Dean took the chair next to Sam.

"Man, I didn't know we weren't allowed to use the fricken' elevator! A hall lady almost got herself cut in half trying to jump on and get me out so she could yell at me! I mean is it really worth your life to try to get someone out of the elevator?"

"I told you they were strict about the weirdest things," Sam reminded him again. "This teacher's fine but annoying. He's always making us read out loud a paragraph at a time, it takes forever."

"Reading?" Dean asked and Sam saw that he looked slightly nervous.

"Yeah. But we don't get that much homework so that's good."

"Oh," Dean only replied and Sam saw him take out his pack of Nicorette and stick a piece in his mouth, chewing quickly.

Sam didn't know what to say back so he just stayed silent as class began and the teacher announced they had a new student at which Dean just rolled his eyes.

They began reading from the history book going down the rows and the closer it got to Dean the more nervous he became. Finally it was Dean's turn…

Dean stayed silent.

"Mr. Winchester? Are you feeling alright?" the middle-aged teacher, Mr. Culler, asked.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine," Dean mumbled while chomping on his gum.

"It's your turn to read Dean." Mr. Culler nodded encouragingly.

"Do…do I have to?" Dean asked quietly and Sam was shocked at how vulnerable he sounded.

"Yes Dean. Everyone has to read a paragraph; it's the rules of my class," came Mr. Culler's stern voice and Dean sighed.

Sam was not expecting what came next.

"In….in….nineteen….forty five the United States and the….So…So…vi...et…." Dean's reading was incredibly slow and he had trouble pronouncing words that seemed so easy. The whole class exploded in laughter except for Sam who glared at them.

"Oh my god! What a moron!" a kid spoke up.

"I know; what a fuckin' retard!" another kid laughed back.

Sam watched as Dean's face turned bright red and he clenched his fists, his eyes slightly watery.

"That's enough class!" Mr. Culler shouted. "Dean you may want to take some special classes or maybe a tutor to help out with your reading."

Sam couldn't believe that their teacher would even say that aloud to a student. The class started laughing again even louder as Dean hung his head.

"Dean, it's okay," Sam tried comforting him over the ruckus but Dean turned his head towards him and Sam saw pure shame and humiliation in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The teacher didn't call on Dean to read again, just skipped him as he went down the rows. For the rest of the class Dean sat there in the same position with his head down. Sam heard some kids still snickering and whispering about Dean and it made him angry. Why did people have to make fun of others that were different? Sam was used to it but it made him angry seeing someone else getting made fun of. And Dean seemed like a nice guy. Sam liked him. Just because he couldn't read well didn't determine who he was.

When the bell rang Dean got out of the room as quickly as possible. Sam frowned and sighed. He had expected Dean to wait for him. He couldn't help but feel disappointed. But when he wheeled out of the class and down the hallway he saw that Dean was indeed waiting for him by their locker. He was just standing there, staring aimlessly ahead, hands twitching.

"You okay?" Sam decided to ask, not sure how Dean was going to react.

Dean looked down at Sam in shock, like he just realized he got there. "You're actually still talking to me? After what just happened?"

"What?" Sam asked in disbelief. "Why would I stop talking to you? Dean, those kids are jerks. Trust me, I know. Don't let them get to you."

Dean bit his lip and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. "It's hard to," he mumbled.

"I know how you feel. You're the only one that doesn't look at me like I'm a freak," Sam responded.

"Yeah well it looks like you're gonna be the only one who won't look at me like I'm a freak too. Now you know why I never had any friends. I'm dyslexic."

Sam was going to tell Dean that he could help with his reading if he wanted when Dean turned his head and watched a bunch of kids leave the school. "Hey, where are they going? It's only lunch."

"They're going out to eat at a fast food place or something in their cars. The school allows us to leave for lunch if we want," Sam informed him.

"Sweet," Dean said, a small smile appearing on his face.

Sam's face fell. He had thought Dean was going to sit with him at lunch. But now he was going to be all alone once again. "Oh, go ahead. I'll see you later," he said, trying not to sound upset as he turned his wheelchair around.

But then he felt Dean turning him back around and looked up to see a confused face. "Hey, where are you going? Don't you want to come with me? I mean, you don't have to of course, you probably wouldn't want to be seen with me."

Sam felt a smile spread over his face. "I thought you wanted to go without me," he confessed. "Of course I want to come, if that's okay with you."

"Why would I want to go without you? There's no fun in eating all alone." Dean smiled as they left the school. "Plus I need you to show me around," he joked. "My car's over here."

Sam was glad Dean had a sense of humor. "But how will I get into your car?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll help you." Dean waved his hand as they neared a long black car.

"Wow. That looks like a really cool car," Sam said in awe.

"Thanks. '67 Impala." Dean had a huge grin on his face. "She's my baby, aren't you sweetie?" he cooed while petting his car. After he was done he turned to Sam who had the most amused look on his face. "What?" he asked with a grunt.

"Wow, you're like obsessed with that thing." Sam let out a long laugh.

"She's not a _thing_! She's a _she_!" Dean growled but couldn't help to laugh when Sam rolled his eyes.

"I didn't know it was possible for someone to love an inanimate object so much," Sam said as Dean went to help him into the Impala. It was weird having someone pick him up, he wasn't used to help. But it was nice.

"Ya' know, I like you Sam. I have a feeling we could get along great even though we've only known each other for a few hours," Dean told him as he placed him in the seat.

"So are you saying we're friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I guess we're each other's first real friend huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Sam replied.

Dean smirked and went to fold up the wheelchair. Sam instructed him how to do it and Dean with shaking hands finally managed to and put it in the back seat.

When he got into the car he immediately started rummaging through his coat pockets. Sam understood the reason for his shaking hands when Dean pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Dean popped one out of the pack and looked at Sam before he lit it. "Uhh…you don't mind the smoke…do you?"

"Oh, no. It's not a problem. I'm used to it, my foster brothers smoke."

Dean nodded and Sam could tell he was unsure of what to say. He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag, rolling down his window a bit. Sam saw how he almost immediately calmed when he was smoking. With how Dean was treated back at the school, Sam didn't blame him at all for smoking.

Dean turned his head to the partially opened window to blow the smoke out of his mouth, not wanting to blow it on Sam. "So…where to?"

* * *

"I don't want to go in there." Sam shook his head when Dean pulled up at the local Burger King.

"Why not?" Dean asked but when he turned around he got the answer. The jocks were sitting in there, messing around. "Hey, it's alright. I don't want to go in either. We'll go through the drive-thru and we can eat in the car." He finished his second cigarette and ground it out in the ashtray in the Impala.

"But what about your car? I don't want to get it dirty."

Dean chuckled. "Trust me Sam, this car gets way dirtier than you'll ever guess. It's no problem; I eat in here all the time. Whataya want to eat?" He turned around to face Sam.

"Oh ummm…" Sam dug through his pockets and pulled out his spare change. His foster parents didn't give him any money. All the money he ever had was spare change that he found or was able to earn. And being in a wheelchair, there wasn't much Sam could do to earn money. "Umm I have seventy two cents. What can I get for that?"

"Your foster parents don't give you any money?" Dean asked with slight disgust.

"Uhh...no…" Sam mumbled and hung his head.

"Jerks," Dean muttered. "Don't worry about it Sam, I'll pay for it."

"What? No! Dean it's alright, you don't have to do that." Sam was shocked that Dean wanted to pay for his lunch.

"Sam. It's fine. I have enough money and there's nothing else I need to spend it on besides food and cigarettes really. And plus, you gotta get some food in you kid, you're as skinny as a twig. Now what do you want?" Dean left no room for argument.

"A couple Whoppers?" Sam asked shyly.

Dean smirked. "Now that's more like it."

* * *

The rest of the day went by a little bit better for Dean. He was nowhere near the smartest kid and did not get the best of grades, but most of the work he could do, as long as it didn't have to do with reading. Letters and words looked jumbled to Dean when he read a book and when he wrote he sometimes left out words or put them in the wrong place.

It was so frustrating for him and he had gone to numerous tutors or special classes but none seemed to work. The teachers were just helping him because it was their job, not because they wanted to.

Dean had even been sent to counselors at his other schools. He remembered that one of them told him that dyslexia could be caused because of problems at home. If a child did not receive proper attention and care from their parents then the disability could be triggered. They also said it could have been from Dean's ever changing environment. Since he moved around so much it was harder on him as a child and interfered with his learning abilities.

Dean understood the moving around part but the parent part he was confused about. His father did care for him and love him…he just…didn't become involved very much with Dean's life other than hunting. His father never helped him with his schoolwork or seemed interested in it. Since his father didn't seem to care, Dean just didn't bother much at all with school. There was no point if he didn't have anyone that would be proud of him.

Sam was in Dean's math class as well. Math was easier for Dean but he still had problems with it. Especially with note taking. It took him longer to copy things because of his dyslexia and he found himself behind quickly.

Sam was a pro at math and it amazed Dean at how quickly Sam was completing the problems. Kid must be a genius or something, it made him feel even more stupid.

"I'll see you tomorrow Dean!" Sam said as they were leaving after going to their locker.

"Hey, there's that stupid kid that can't read!" Dean heard someone snicker before they exited the building.

"He's hanging out with that crippled kid! No wonder! They're both losers!" someone else whispered but Dean with his sharp hearing had no problem understanding what was said and one look at Sam confirmed that neither had he.

Dean could just imagine how rude people probably were to Sam all the time and it made him sick to his stomach. The kid probably got bullied even more outside of school.

"Hey Sam, do you want me to give you a ride home?" he suggested.

"What? Oh no. It's fine Dean." Sam seemed surprised by the offer.

"Sam, it's no problem, and I'd like someone to talk to driving home," he told him honestly.

"Well I guess so. If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind!" Dean dismissed Sam's worry and got him seated in the Impala's passenger seat like he did before and they were on their way.

* * *

"This is where you live?" Dean questioned. He was trying hard not to gag in disgust and took a drag of his cigarette instead.

It was obvious Sam was ashamed. "Yeah."

"Hey, it's not your fault it looks like this." Dean tried to cheer him up. He didn't like it when the kid was upset.

"I try to clean up my room the best I can but…." He waved his hands at his skinny, immobile legs. "No one bothers to try to keep the house in shape."

"That's sickening," Dean muttered quietly while blowing out a long stream of smoke.

"Yeah but it gives me a roof over my head." Sam tried to act like it wasn't all that bad when it really was. "Thanks Dean for driving me here, and for lunch."

"Anytime Sam, and….thanks for….you know…not laughing at me in class…." Dean ran a hand over his face, slightly embarrassed.

"There was no reason to laugh," Sam said matter-of-factly.

Dean just slightly shook his head, he didn't believe it. He ground out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Yeah, well thanks, here I'll help you get out."

Dean went around and got Sam's wheelchair and after a few tries was successful in opening it. He then grabbed Sam under his knees and behind his back and lifted him from the seat into his wheelchair waiting a few feet away.

And as Dean was doing that, suddenly he was flashed back to that awful day fourteen years ago. Carrying his baby brother out of the house the same way he was carrying Sam now, running quickly, panting, and crying out for his father. Looking back when he heard footsteps and then….

He tripped over a toy that he and Sammy had been playing with earlier and fell. He had dropped Sammy out of reflex when he unavailingly tried to regain his footing. Sammy had hit the ground hard and gone sliding through the open door into the next room, his back slamming into the corner of the wall. Dean had watched in shock how the little body went still at the impact and he struggled to get up and go get him.

But then his father had come running and, in his panic, he grabbed Dean and ran out of the house, not realizing that Sam wasn't in his brother's arms anymore. The whole house ended up getting burned by the time the firemen came.

They never found Sammy's body. The firemen told them he probably burned to ashes and they got blown away.

Dean swallowed hard and felt like he was going to be sick. He remembered that night so clearly but usually it was pushed to the back of his mind. Why had carrying Sam triggered it?

He looked down at his new friend, who he was still holding, and had to watch his breathing. For some reason this kid was reminding him of his dead baby brother and he had no idea why. He knew they had the same name but that wasn't the reason…it was something else and he couldn't put his finger on it. It was then that he realized Sam was calling his name.

"Dean? Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick." Sam's voice held a lot of concern in it. No one was ever concerned about him, not even his father really.

"Yeah." Dean shook his head a bit and finally placed Sam in the wheelchair. "I'm sorry, I just kinda….zoned out for a minute there, I guess I have to get more sleep. Maybe I am getting sick."

"It's okay," Sam said and it actually sounded like he meant it. "I'll see you tomorrow Dean." He smiled and waved.

"Yeah, see you then Sam," Dean told him and watched as Sam wheeled into the house. Dean took a deep breath and saw that his hands were shaking. What the hell? He quickly pulled out a cigarette and lit it only to find that it did nothing to relax him which was a first.

Man, what was going on? Sam just seemed so familiar or something, like he knew him once. But that was impossible because Dean was sure he never saw the kid before. He didn't have a clue why the boy was reminding him so much of his little brother. Gosh, he finally made a friend and now he probably scared him off.

* * *

Sam wheeled into the house, slightly confused on what had just happened with Dean. He had suddenly gained this far-away look in his eyes and then looked like he was going to throw up. But then Sam remembered that Dean had gotten that same sad look in his eyes when he'd first met him outside the school. He was curious to know what was bothering Dean but he didn't want to press. Sam wondered why he cared so much, he just met the guy! But he felt like he knew Dean for a long time already.

Sam felt bad for Dean. Those stupid jerks making fun of him because he couldn't read well. It wasn't his fault he was dyslexic! And Sam saw how slow Dean was in taking notes in Algebra class, he only got about a quarter of the notes done. Sam would offer Dean to copy his notes but he didn't want to seem like he was being nosy.

He looked out the window and saw that Dean was still standing there, smoking again. He looked distressed and Sam wondered why.

His foster parents were cooing to the young children and ignored Sam completely as he came in. This place wasn't a home, just somewhere where he could stay out of the cold.

He wheeled into the room he had to share with his foster brothers and gasped when he came in.

The two older boys were sitting around with a bunch of empty beer cans lying around. They were clearly drunk. But this wasn't what got Sam upset. What did was that the project he had been working on for history class had been ripped to shreds.

"What the hell! What have you done to my project?!" he gasped and made his way over to the remains of his hard work. The kids had always picked on him and pushed him around but never proceeded to rip up his stuff until now.

"We're bored! And we're tired of this fuckin' place," Alex slurred. "We wanted to do somethin' fun!"

"Ripping up my project is fun to you? I worked hard on that!" Sam yelled, tears in his eyes.

"Well then why don't ya' go fix it then!" Jack said and walked up behind Sam. Before he knew it he was violently pushed to the ground.

"Hey now this is fun!" He laughed out loud.

"Yeah, let's keep the chair away from him and watch him struggle!" They pushed the chair outside and closed the door, leaving Sam unable to get it.

The boy's laughter was loud and rowdy as Sam army-crawled to the door and tried to reach the doorknob. He pushed himself into a sitting position and his long arms were able to reach it….until Jack pushed him down again, making him smack his head into the wall.

Sam's good day was ruined as tears streamed down his face. He didn't want to start crying like a baby, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to live here anymore! He wanted to be treated with respect instead of being pushed around all the time! Then Sam thought of Dean and prayed that tomorrow would get here quick so he could see his friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean sighed as he rested his head against a tree in front of the school. God, he was just _so tired._ His father had made him stay up and do research with him, and Dean _hated_ research. Being dyslexic just made it that much worse, stumbling over what he was reading and having to re-read everything five times to make sure he got the facts right.

But his father wanted him to do research rather than hunting. Dean was a very well trained hunter, but his father didn't let him go on cases that often, only when he desperately needed help. When Dean asked why his father had responded, _'I already lost two members of my family to the supernatural, I'm not losing you too Dean.'_

And Dean understood what his father meant, he really did. But the research was just so hard on him. John told him to take his time but he could tell that he got impatient with him many times.

Dean took a long sip of his strong coffee and it woke him up just a bit. He glanced around the school's front yard and his face fell when he didn't see his friend. Maybe Sam was just playing around with him and really didn't want anything to do with him. He was probably hiding away from Dean, cracking jokes about him or something.

He bit his lip hard and tried to push away the urge for a cigarette. He really should cut back a bit, his habit just kept getting worse and worse. He started when he was sixteen because of the stress of falling behind in school and in the research. He felt like he was just one huge disappointment and smoking helped him to relax and become less tense.

Dean knew that there were other options that would work better like alcohol and drugs, but he was in no way ever going to become an alcoholic or a drug addict. Both drugs and alcohol interfere with your mind and make you unfocused and make you all loopy and weird. Cigarettes didn't do that, but they did calm his nerves, so to Dean it was a perfect match.

But right now the disappointment of Sam not showing up was really upsetting him. Screw it, Dean was going to have a smoke, maybe a couple at that. He nearly sighed with relief when the smoke entered his lungs and smirked when he remembered how angry his father had been when he found out he was smoking. Dean had been able to keep it a secret for about a year, changing his clothes frequently and putting on lots of cologne to block out the smell, but by then his addiction was stronger and he couldn't go a couple hours without a cigarette. So when Dean tried having a quick smoke while his father stopped at a rest stop, John exploded with anger. He told Dean how during hunting some creatures could easily track him by the smell of cigarette smoke. But Dean just waved it off, saying he'd change clothes and wouldn't smoke before a hunt, not that he went on many anyway.

But then John got into yelling at him about what smoking does to your lungs and all that crap. Dean wasn't stupid, he knew it was bad but it just helped him so much. He just told his father he didn't smoke all that much, which was a lie. John had growled and then the Nicorette gum came into play. He bought it, threw it at Dean and told him to use that to try to help quit. However, the gum had the opposite affect on Dean and he used it to his advantage. Whenever he had a craving in school or in a building, he chewed the gum instead, just making his addiction stick.

But not even the cigarette could completely control Dean's worry. He didn't know whether to think that Sam left him, or if something had happened to the kid. The second thought scared him more than it should. He only knew Sam for a day but he would be devastated if anything bad had happened to him.

Checking his watch, Dean saw that it was ten minutes until the bell rang. Putting out his cigarette, he drained the rest of his still hot coffee. Tossing the cup into the garbage nearby Dean was filled with relief when he heard a voice call his name.

"Dean." It was Sam's. But he sounded hurt or tired, Dean couldn't tell which one. Turning around his smile quickly faded as he saw Sam's face.

Sam had two large purple bruises coloring his face; one was over his left eye, which was almost completely swollen shut. The other was on his cheek. Sam also had another split lip. The poor kid looked like hell, his hair dishevelled and it looked like he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. It seemed like he hadn't gotten much sleep either.

"God Sam! What happened to you?" he asked with total concern, bending down to inspect Sam's wounds closer.

"Oh, it's nothing Dean. I just fell out of my chair a couple times; it's fine, it happens all the time." Sam's voice didn't sound very convincing to Dean and he wasn't fooled.

"No one did this to you, did they Sam?" Dean's voice held a little bit of anger in it and it surprised Sam.

"N…no. It's my fault Dean. Don't worry." Sam smiled a bit but it didn't reach his eyes. Dean didn't know whether to think Sam was telling the truth or not but he didn't want to press.

Sam fiddled with his thumbs and Dean saw that there were some unshed tears in the kid's eyes and it made his heart clench. Why was he hurting when Sam did? Why did he feel so connected to someone he just met the other day?

"Something bothering you Sam?" he said in a gentler voice, sitting on the ground beside Sam's wheelchair.

"It…it's nothing you have to worry about. I…I…" Sam sounded like he was about to cry and for some reason Dean felt so protective over this kid. He didn't want Sam to cry, or see him hurt; he wanted him to be happy.

"It's okay Sam. You can tell me. I want to know, I want to help you." He was surprised by his own honesty.

"You...you want to help me?" Sniffing, Sam looked up. A lone tear fell from his eyes.

"Yeah, I do Sam." Dean got on his knees and placed a hand on Sam's back, wanting to show him that someone was concerned about him.

Sam seemed awestruck that anyone would offer him help and wanted to hear him out. "Why do you want to help me?" he whispered.

Dean smiled. "I like you Sam. We're friends right? I don't want to see my friend hurt."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam nodded quickly. "We are, we're friends."

Dean chuckled at Sam's eagerness. "So what's bothering you?"

"You know that history class we have together?" Sam asked without any hesitation at all this time. When Dean nodded he went on. "Well, we have a project on World War II due next week. You don't have to do it 'cause you just got here. But anyway, I worked so hard on it and I was really proud of it. I came home yesterday and the other foster kids tore it up for fun." He hung his head sadly.

The look Dean's face held was nothing short of extreme anger. "Fricken' assholes!" he growled.

"I…I don't know what to do!" Sam cried. "I spent almost all my money on the supplies and I can't…"

"Hey, it's okay Sam," Dean interrupted. "I mean, it's not okay but it will be. I'll help you out with it."

"Huh? But you weren't here when we learned about it."

"Yeah but do you know how many times I've had to learn about World War II? I might have not been able to read a lot but I was able to listen to the teachers that lectured about it. And anyway, you just tell me what you want on it and what you want it to look like. I could help you create it and cut out the stuff." 

"No Dean, I couldn't ask you to do that. And besides I don't have the money." Sam shook his head.

"Hey, you're not asking me to help you. I'm telling you I'm going to help you." Dean smirked and couldn't help himself as he playfully punched Sam in the shoulder lightly. "And I can buy the stuff Sam. I have enough money lying around that only gets spent on food and cigarettes. It's no problem at all."

"I…Dean…you don't have to…" Sam fumbled, obviously not used to people volunteering to help him. Just then the bell rang to begin school.

"But I want to." Dean smiled.

"Thank you, thank you so much," Sam said gratefully and Dean saw that there were tears in his eyes again.

"Hey, that's what friends are for," he laughed, causing Sam to smile brightly.

* * *

For the next couple days Sam came over to the motel that Dean and John had been staying in and worked on the project. They kept it at the motel so the kids wouldn't rip it up again. Sam was confused to why Dean was living in a motel and Dean just explained because it was cheap and they didn't plan on staying anywhere for long. Sam seemed pretty upset when Dean told him about not staying anywhere long, but before Dean could comment Sam changed the topic.

Sam had told Dean that at least he had his father. He said he would love to live in a motel and away from the foster home. It made Dean wonder more and more what happened to Sam at home.

John was never home when Dean and Sam were working on the project together but Dean had told him about Sam. His father listened but seemed genuinely uninterested. He hoped that would change when John finally met his new friend.

He also hoped that these hunts his father was working on would take a long time to complete. Dean liked Sam more every time he hung out with him. They had a lot of fun just talking and hanging out. And while they were different in a lot of ways they just seemed to connect and click so well. Dean knew that if his baby brother had survived, he would have wanted him to be like Sam.

* * *

On Friday Dean and Sam were almost done with the project.

"You know, I think this class would be pretty interesting if I could actually read the text." Dean leaned back in the motel-provided chair.

Sam knew that the dyslexia must be so frustrating to Dean in many ways. Along with not being able to read there was the laughter of the kids that just didn't understand. And now some of the bully jocks were hearing word of Dean's reading struggles and they were sure to lay it on him soon. This just made Sam more determined to help him. Dean had done so much for him; Sam should do something for him in return.

"You know Dean, I could help you out with the reading and note taking," he offered and hoped Dean wouldn't become upset with him.

Dean was quiet for a little before he spoke up. "Not to sound mean Sam but how are you going to do that? I'm pretty sure I'm a lost cause."

"Dean, you have a learning disability. It will stay with you for life but there are ways to make it easier and help your reading and writing skills. I was thinking that we could take a copy of my math notes for you. I'll write the numbers and stuff spaced out so it's easier for you." 

"Well, thanks Sam but my reading? There's no way around that," Dean dismissed.

"No Dean there is. Some companies have books with bigger letters in them so it's easier to read. And if this company doesn't have them, I can help you. You know what we could do? I could read each chapter to you after school." Sam got excited just by thinking about spending more time with Dean and being able to help him.

"Sam, I really appreciate that but I don't want you wasting your time on me. You would be reading me stuff you already learned." Dean shook his head slightly.

"Dean, I think I would learn better like this. I'll read it to you and we can discuss about it together. No annoying students and teacher. Just me and you. If we have questions we can ask each other. And we can study for the tests together."

Dean completely doubted it would work for him. It did sound like a great idea; but Dean didn't think he would be capable of learning it. But Sam seemed so happy; he didn't want to bring him down.

And plus, if he agreed to this that would be more time for him and Sam to hang out. Dean loved hanging out with the kid, he just felt so much better when Sam was with him.

"Okay Sam, I'll try it out. Thanks man."

"It's the least I could do." Sam grinned.

* * *

The following week John finally ran into Sam. Dean and Sam were on one of the beds and Sam was reading the latest section from the history book to him. Dean wasn't sure if this idea of Sam's would work out yet once a test came, but he did seem to be understanding things a lot better when Sam explained them to him.

A couple more bruises had appeared on Sam's face that day and Dean was dying to find out what really happened. If someone had laid a finger on his friend he would make sure they would pay. He had gotten a lot closer to Sam but he didn't want to press into Sam's personal issues just yet.

Sam was reading and Dean was listening and smoking when John came in, a look of slight surprise on his face. John already knew Sam had been coming over and made sure that all the hunting stuff was hidden or in the cars. But John had never seen Dean with a friend before, it was a first time thing.

"Dad…" Dean took the cigarette out of his mouth to introduce John to Sam.

"How many times do I have to tell you Dean? If you're going to smoke, do it outside!" John scolded. He didn't mean to yell in front of Dean's friend but he really didn't like his boy smoking.

"Sorry…" Dean muttered as he regretfully put the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand.

John didn't reply with 'it's okay' because it wasn't. Instead he changed the subject. "So is this Sam?"

"Yeah. Sam, meet my dad." 

"Hi Mr. Winchester. Uhh sorry about the wheelchair if it gets in your way," Sam said rather shyly.

"It's no problem Sam," John said with ease. "It's nice to meet you." He walked over to shake Sam's hand.

For some reason unbeknown to John, Sam looked oddly familiar. The dark brown hair, brown eyes, dimples; John instantly took a liking to this boy.

"Nice to meet you too," Sam said with a small smile.

John smiled back. "So I brought some pizza. You boys want some?"

* * *

Dean helped Sam get back in the wheelchair when he dropped him off at 'home'.

"See you tomorrow Dean?" Sam asked even though they had been hanging out everyday for the past week and a half. He loved spending time with Dean and hated going back to his 'house'.

"Yeah, same place same time." Dean laughed and then he surprised Sam by bending down and giving him a quick brotherly-like hug. Dean didn't seem like the hugging type but Sam didn't mind at all. He couldn't remember a time where he had ever been hugged.

"Thanks for your help," Dean told Sam genuinely.

"It's no problem Dean, I like helping you," Sam replied.

Dean laughed as he started walking back to his car. "See ya tomorrow, Sammy."

Sam watched as Dean froze at the use of the nickname and Sam did as well. He didn't like being called Sammy exactly because the jocks that made fun of him called him that. But when Dean said it, Sam liked it. It wasn't meant as a mean nickname when it came out of Dean's mouth.

Sam was unsure why Dean froze though and once again that far-away look was in his eyes.

"Dean?" Sam decided to ask.

"Oh uhh. Sorry. Do you mind if I call you Sammy?" he asked.

"Oh no it's fine. As long as it's just you calling me that." Sam smiled at Dean. He wondered why this nickname seemed to hold so much importance to Dean but he'd ask that sometime later.

"Alright, catch ya later Sammy," Dean said, smiling.

Sam watched Dean drive off in the Impala and wished he could go with him and didn't have to be stuck here. He really liked Dean a lot and his dad seemed nice too. He wished he could have a family like that, even if it was small.

Shivering, Sam realized just how cold it had gotten outside and he went to wheel himself into the house when the two older foster kids came out of the house chatting. Spotting Sam they smiled wickedly.

"We're trying to make cool weapons to use on the kids across town and you know what Sam? Those parts of your wheelchair would work really well." Jack snickered.

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing! They wanted to take his wheelchair apart? Then how would he be able to get around? He couldn't let them take it! Then he would never be able to get to school, and then he wouldn't be able to see Dean!

"Please, please don't do this. I need the wheelchair! Please!" he begged.

"Man, this is too much fun!" Alex laughed and before Sam had time to think they grabbed him and threw him to the side of the house.

Sam turned his head and watched as they grabbed his old, too small wheelchair and started tearing it apart, laughing loudly. Sam shivered in the cold and tried to pull himself away.

"Heh, not so fast little cripple," he heard Jack say. The next thing Sam knew was a sharp pain on the side of his head as everything went black, leaving him alone, paralyzed and unconscious in the growing cold….


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was waiting for Sam in their usual meeting place in front of the school, lost in his thoughts once again. His father seemed to really like Sam too and for that Dean was grateful. He didn't know how his father would react towards his friend because well…he never had a friend before.

There always seemed to be something missing in Dean's life, something that he and is father both needed but he never knew what. He wished he could be closer to John than he was but there had always been this...missing thing that neither of them knew what it was.

But when Sam was with them last night, things just seemed so….right…so good. Dean found himself actually being able to joke and connect with his father for once and also with Sam. And Dean had never seen his father look so…content. John had actually complimented Dean on something other than hunting which was a first and the three of them watched some stupid funny movie.

When Sam finally had to go all three of them seemed glum at the idea. Sam had stayed as long as possible but Dean saw how tired he was getting. He was going to offer the kid to just stay at the motel but then he thought the offer would be kind of weird.

Dean frowned though when he noticed Sam wasn't showing up. Earlier last week he would have just thought Sam not showing up meant he was avoiding him. But now he was almost confident that Sam at least wanted to be his friend and wouldn't ditch him. Dean got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if something had happened to Sam? He decided he'd wait until the bell rang. If Sam didn't show up by then, he'd stop by his foster house.

When the bell did rang and the kids hurried out of the chilly weather Dean was more than freaked out. He had the sudden unstoppable urge for a cigarette and pulled one out of his pack as he rushed over to the Impala. He smoked the whole time he was speeding over to Sam's place and squealed to a park in front of the unkempt house.

Putting out his third cigarette Dean went to open the Impala's door when he noticed someone lying sprawled out on the side of the house.

Sam.

 _Oh shit oh shit oh shit!!!!!_

Not even bothering to shut the Impala's door, Dean leapt out and rushed over to the unmoving body of Sam. Upon seeing blood on Sam's head, Dean feared the worst as he quickly knelt beside him.

Sam's skin was a pale grayish color and his lips and fingernails were blue. Dean gently reached out a hand to touch his face but pulled back at the coldness of Sam's skin. Dean first feared Sam was dead. His heart started to pounce like crazy and tears clouded his vision. But then he touched Sam's neck and felt a weak but steady pulse. Relieved, that his friend was still alive, he noticed that Sam was shaking slightly. Dean didn't have to be a genius to know Sam had hypothermia. How long was he out here like this?!

Dean remembered that his father had told him never to jostle a person with hypothermia because it could stop their heart. Seeing as how Sam's shivering was barely noticeable, he most likely passed the stages of beginning mild hypothermia and was probably now at moderate. Intense shivering was supposed to be good, showed that your body was still fighting, but Sam was barely shivering at all.

"Sam? Hey buddy, can you hear me? It's Dean." Sam moaned, showing that he was somewhat conscious. Dean knew he couldn't wait any longer and needed to get Sam warm. With Sam's wheelchair nowhere in sight, Dean scooped him up into his arms as quickly but gently as possible.

Dean hurried to the Impala and carefully placed Sam's freezing body in the back seat so he was lying down. Rushing to the trunk, Dean grabbed the emergency blanket and wrapped it around Sam tightly. Dean then hopped into the driver's seat and cranked up the heat full blast. He wanted to drive fast, but he knew it could injure Sam so he bit his lip as he slowly made his way back to the hotel. One thing was for certain, when he found out who did this he was going to beat the hell out of them.

* * *

Sam was placed on Dean's bed in the motel. There was a heated blanket on the back of his neck and under his armpits. Dean had gotten him out of his freezing clothes and gotten Sam into some of his own clothes. But before he put the shirt on Sam, he remembered that his father told him skin-to-skin contact helped the victim warm quicker. Thanking his dad for what he had taught him, Dean took off his own shirt as he crawled into bed next to Sam and pulled the covers over them. He wrapped his arms around his friend and pulled him close in an attempt to save his life.

Shivering upon touching Sam's skin, Dean prayed that Sam would wake up soon. It was important for him to be awake and for Dean to keep him awake. Dean had a thermometer with him that he kept sticking in Sam's mouth to check his temperature. Sam was just _so cold_! The cut on his head wasn't large at all but it had proved to Dean that someone went to knock out Sam and had purposely left him alone outside. But he couldn't worry about that right now, he had to worry about keeping Sam warm.

Dean turned up the heating pads on Sam's body and ran a hand up and down his back to generate heat as he lay close to him. After twenty more minutes Sam's barely noticeable shivering got more intense. While it scared Dean, he knew it was a good thing that Sam was shivering more. It meant his body temperature was rising and that his hypothermia wasn't as severe. After ten more minutes Sam started to wake.

A low moan escaped Sam's lips that were now regaining their color. Dean put a hand on the side of Sam's face and sighed when he felt Sam's body heat returning.

"Hey, Sammy, can you hear me?" he asked. He checked Sam's temperature and finally settled down as he realized Sam was at least out of death's door.

* * *

Sam groaned as he awoke, the top half of his body was so cold unlike his legs which he of course couldn't feel. He didn't know what had happened or where he was. Why was he so cold? But as Sam started to awake more he noticed more things. There was the smell of cigarettes nearby and he felt a presence close to him; someone was also talking to him in a low voice. Connecting those three things together Sam could only come up with one conclusion. Dean. It was the only thing that made sense. But why was he with Dean? Wasn't he supposed to be back at the foster house?

Then suddenly a rush of memories flew by in Sam's head and he gasped. He remembered the older foster kids pushing him out of his wheelchair and dismembering it, he remembered getting hit in the head and being left outside...cold...

"Sammy? You awake buddy?" He heard Dean's kind voice calling out to him and he forced himself to open his eyes despite his fear. He saw Dean lying next to him in a bed, concern all over his face, and noticed that they were in Dean's motel room.

"Dea...?" he whispered, his throat hurting and scratchy.

"Wait, here, drink this Sammy." Dean grabbed a cup of what smelt like hot chocolate with a straw in it. He held Sam's head up as he drank the warm liquid, soothing his throat and his shivering body. "That's it Sammy. Small sips." Dean smiled.

Sam shook his head when he had enough and Dean put the cup back on the nightstand. Sam couldn't help the intense shivers that were wracking his body. "Dean...wh...what ha...happened?" he asked, teeth chattering.

"Shh...it's ok. I'll explain everything," Dean told him and laid back down. Sam didn't hesitate as he cuddled close to Dean, relishing in his warmth. He hoped Dean wouldn't pull away because he thought it was weird. But Dean wrapped his arms around his body and pulled him close. Sam was grateful because he was just so scared and cold right now, he needed Dean's protection.

"When you didn't show up at school, I went to your house to see what was wrong," Dean explained. "And then..." Sam saw how Dean tensed up and swallowed hard, anger and fright in his face. "I...I saw you lying on the ground. You were so cold...I...oh God, I thought you were dead." Dean's voice cracked at the end and when Sam looked up, he saw a single tear roll down his face. Sam didn't know why Dean had been so scared and worried about him. Sure they were friends but...

But when Sam thought about the alternative, if it was he who found Dean like that....oh god. He would've been crying too, if he lost Dean... No, no, Sam couldn't even imagine what would happen then. Even though they had only known each other for two weeks, Sam felt like it was for a lifetime. Dean was his best friend; he was like a big brother to him. Sam had never been so happy in his life before he met Dean. And now that Sam knew what it felt like to be happy and cared for, he didn't want to live without that. He'd rather die.

So maybe Dean felt the same way.

"It's okay. I...I'm still here," Sam said.

"I know. But you have hypothermia. I'm so glad my dad taught me what to do in case something like this happened. But...but someone did this to you Sammy. And I will not, I repeat, not let this happen to you again. I'm going to make sure whoever did this to you knows who they're messin' with because I won't...I can't lose you."

Sam looked up at Dean with wide eyes, still shivering.

"You're the only one that really listens to me, who tries to understand me. You're always there for me," Dean said truthfully.

"Same with you," Sam answered.

Dean smiled and they were both quiet for a bit until he spoke up. "Who did this to you?"

Sam was shocked at the anger that was in Dean's voice. "Dean, don't w...worry about it, it's not...."

"Don't you tell me it's not important because it is. Nothing is more important right now," Dean said sternly.

Sam swallowed; he didn't want to tell Dean because he was afraid Dean would get hurt. Those foster kids were pretty strong. "I don't want you to get hurt," he whispered.

"Sammy, trust me. You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going to get hurt. I've fought men a lot bigger than me and won every time." Sam briefly wondered why Dean seemed to be experienced in fighting. Dean wasn't the type to go around fighting people, but when Sam thought about it...he was probably protecting people. That seemed more of his nature.

"It was the two older foster kids that still live in the house. They....they pick on me all the time but it's never been this bad before. Th...they pushed me from my wheelchair and destroyed it before knocking me out." Sam shook somewhat from coldness and somewhat from horror. He felt Dean hold him a little tighter and he felt better.

"I'll make sure those bastards never lay a finger on you again," Dean informed Sam. "You're not going back to that shit-hole."

"Bu-but Dean, where...I can't stay here..."

"Yes, you're going to," Dean told him and his voice held no room for argument.

"But Dean, what about your dad? And you said you move around a lot. I can't..." Sam sighed sadly. If there was one place he would want to live it was right here with Dean. Who cared if they lived in motels and moved around a lot? Sam would love it as long as he had his friend.

"I'll find a way alright?" Dean said quietly. "You deserve to live with people who care about you."

Sam swallowed and tried to blink back his tears, he wanted to live with Dean so badly, to actually have a family. But he wasn't going to get his hopes up. It was too good to be true.

* * *

Sam had fallen asleep a while later and Dean had called John and left a message telling him what had happened. He was fuming with anger but he couldn't go beat those kids yet because he couldn't leave Sammy alone. Sam still had hypothermia and even though his body temperature had increased significantly, he still needed to be kept warm. He needed John to watch over Sam because he knew Sam was going to get a fever from being left out in the cold so long. He just hoped John would get home soon, he was scared.

* * *

When John arrived back at the motel about an hour and a half later he found both Dean and Sam lying in one of the beds. When Dean looked up at him, he saw that there were tears in his son's eyes.

"Dad..." Dean muttered, trying to hide the fact that he was about to cry. Dean's face turned red with embarrassment and he quickly got off of the bed and brushed past John to go outside.

"Dean?" Sam called out weakly, hurt written across his face. He thought Dean was upset with him.

"Give me a minute Sam, I' going to go out there and talk with him," John told the young teenager and left after he saw Sam's small nod.

Walking out into the cold, John found Dean leaning up against the wall right next to the door smoking. For once John didn't make a comment about the smoking and instead focused on the tears running down his boy's face.

"Dean, what's the matter son?" he asked, standing next to him.

"He almost died. I almost didn't make it to him in time," Dean stated dryly.

"But he didn't," John assured him. And you did get there in time."

"But...Dad...you should have seen him. I...I thought he was dead! He's like a brother to me and I thought I lost him!" Angrily, Dean pounded his head against the wall.

"Dean..."

"I thought I was going to fail him. Just like I failed my brother." Dean's eyes were lifeless as he stared directly in front of him. Smoking was his only movement as the rest of his body was stock still.

"Dean, for the last time, what happened to your brother was not your fault! You were four years old Dean! You were confused and scared! You tripped!" John wanted to get rid of the self-hatred that was flowing around in his son all the time.

"No! It _is_ my fault!" Dean growled and angrily smashed his finished cigarette with his boot. "I should have been more careful! He was my baby brother for Christ sakes! I was supposed to make sure he was safe!"

"Dean, you were..."

"No dad, I don't want to hear it. I failed him. And I will not make the same mistake with Sam. I'm not going to fail my best friend; I'm going to protect him." Dean stared his father in the eyes before turning and walking away.

"Dean, where are you going?" John called out to his retreating son.

"To go beat those assholes that did this to Sam. You...you'll watch him right?" Dean turned back around a little.

"Of course I will. For what it's worth Dean...if Sam wasn't sick and needed protection I would be right there beside you, kicking their asses."

Dean smiled a little bit before heading back and getting into the Impala. John watched his son speed away and stepped back into the motel.

Closing the door behind him, John looked over at the bed and saw that Sam was crying as well, his fists clutching the blanket that surrounded him.

"Hey...Sam, what's wrong?" John asked attentively.

"He...he's mad at me isn't he?" Sam whimpered.

"What? No Sam! Why would you think Dean's mad at you?" John's heart was melting for this poor boy and he took a few more steps towards the bed.

"He...he left..." Sam whispered

"He left because he didn't want you to see him cry Sam," John tried to reassure the kid.

"What? He....he was crying?" Sam didn't seem to believe that Dean would cry.

"He was scared for you Sam," John tried to explain. You see....Dean likes to blame things on himself a lot."

"Why? This isn't his fault at all!"

"Sam....when Dean was just a kid...his younger brother and mother died in a fire." John realized Sam never knew this by the way the kid's eyes grew huge. "I gave him his baby brother to carry out of the house. But you see, Dean was only four years old and he was so scared. He ended up tripping and dropping his baby brother. Then when I came to grab them, in the panic I thought Dean was still carrying Sammy and I picked Dean up, not realizing he had dropped the baby. Sammy died in the fire and Dean thinks he failed him. He thought he was going to fail you today as well." John hoped that Dean wouldn't be upset with him for telling Sam this but the kid needed to understand why his friend had left and gotten so upset.

"Sammy...was his brother's name? Is that why he calls me Sammy then?" Sam looked hurt and John understood. Sam thought that Dean only wanted him to be his friend because he reminded him of his brother.

"No! Not at all Sam! Dean likes you, he cares about you. He's not using you to take his brother's place." John shook his head. He hadn't even known that Dean called Sam by the nickname. "But he did tell me that you're like a brother to him. You're his best friend and that's where the nickname came from."

"He...he told you that I'm like a brother to him?" Sam asked with a shy smile.

"Yeah he did. That's why he's so worried about you and so angry at the people who did this. That's where he left to - to go after those kids that did this to you."

"Ohh," Sam said. he was fidgeting nervously and John didn't know how to take it.

"You want anything to eat Sam?" he asked.

"Oh, no. I'm fine. I...I shouldn't even be here. I'm taking up space and time. I'm sorry." Sam sighed.

"Hey, you're not taking up any space or time! I like having you here and I sure as hell know Dean does. There's no way we're letting you go back to that foster home. Dean told me everything that happened. You're staying here." John sat on the bed that Sam was in. He didn't know what they were going to do when the time came for another hunt. Where would Sam go? But he didn't want to worry about that right now; he wanted to make the poor kid feel comfortable here. "Do you want to play a game of cards?" he asked Sam.

"Yeah, I'd like that, but..." He trailed off, shyly licking his lips.

"What is it, Sam?" John asked gently. He didn't have a lot of experience with kids, but something was definitely wrong. "You can tell me everything, you know."

"I..." Sam closed his eyes and his face turned red. "I have to go to the bathroom."

John cursed himself for not thinking of Sam's needs. He didn't know if Sam had control over his bladder or had to use a catheter or urinal, but he was about to find out.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Sam." He smiled. "You tell me what I can do to help you and together we'll manage, okay?" He lifted Sam up and carried him over to the bathroom. Gosh, the boy was a lightweight. They had to put some meat on that bony body.

A few minutes later Sam was back in bed. He had asked John to put a chair in the bathroom and told him that he was able to help himself. John had waited outside, impressed by the boy's determination to take care of himself.

"So," he smiled. "Now, what about the card game?"

"I...don't....don't know many card games..." Sam said sadly. John was touched by those sad looking puppy-dog eyes! Sam was just so sweet and kind, no wonder Dean wanted to protect him.

"Don't worry about it. I'll teach you." He started setting up the cards in-between them. "Have you ever heard of the game Rummy?"

* * *

Dean sat waiting in the Impala finishing the last of his cigarettes as he watched Sam's house...or rather Sam's _old_ house. He'd need to stop by the local hospital later and buy a wheelchair that Sam would actually fit in. The kid was going to need it but first he was going to take care of these punks.

Finally two loud and rowdy boys that looked about his age came trotting out of the house...with what looked to be pieces of Sam's old wheelchair. Cigarette still in his mouth, Dean clenched his fists as he got out of the Impala. Oh yeah...this was going to be fun....


	5. Chapter 5

Dean followed the two jerks a little while, being a hunter made him go undetected by the loud annoying kids as they walked through the back alleys. Finally, with no one around Dean felt it was the right time to get their attention.

"Hey! You two!" he called out and watched as the two freaks turned around in confusion, obviously oblivious to the fact that someone had been following them. He shook his head as he took a drag of his almost finished cigarette.

"Hey, is that a joint?" one of them called out. "Can we buy some from ya'?"

"No," Dean said in disgust. "It's not a fuckin' joint, it's a cigarette. I'm not a druggie like you two losers obviously are." He growled.

"Dude, what's your problem man?" The taller one called out to him and Dean just smirked as he walked closer to them. He watched as they looked at one another uncertainly.

"You want to know what my problem is? I'll tell you what my problem is. My best friend almost died because of you two assholes!" He got right up in their faces which caused the kids to stumble back a little in shock.

"Whoa, who's your friend? Someone from the gang in the town next door? We don't like those guys, we fight em'. Are you part of that gang?" The taller one tried to look tough.

"I'm not part of a pathetic gang! I have better things to do than be part of one or go mess with one!" Dean snorted in disgust. "My friend is Sam. You know, the kid that used to live in the foster home with you two morons? The one that you took his wheelchair and left him outside freezing to death?"

"What? Sam?" the shorter one spoke up and had the decency to look ashamed. "We didn't mean to leave him outside. I know that we took his wheelchair but I assumed he just crawled inside the house. We like messin' with him but we'd never want to kill the kid." 

"Who cares if the gimp dies Alex!" The taller one rolled his eyes. "I for one knew he was out there. I saw him lying at the ground when we came back. It would save us a lot of space if he was dead! No one would miss the fuckin' cripple!"

The kid was barely able to finish his sentence before he was slammed into the brick wall by a very angry Dean. He dropped the 'weapon' that he had made out of Sam's old wheelchair. "I would miss him you sonuvabitch! What makes you think Sam isn't worth anything huh? Because he's paralyzed? Well I have news for you buddy. When I'm done with you, you'll be paralyzed, too. Sam's the nicest kid I've ever met and he deserves a long happy life. It's people like you that get pleasure out of innocent people's pain that deserve the most miserable life possible."

"You really wanted to kill him, Jack?" The other one, Alex, said with somewhat shock in his voice. "I can't believe that." That kid was a total jerk as well, but at least he still seemed to have some conscience.

"He's a cripple! He's worthless! What's the point of him even living?" Jack shouted.

Dean decided to stop being nice. He pulled his cigarette to his mouth and took one final drag. Then instead of putting it out on the ground, he brought it up and pressed it to the kid's arm, making him scream in pain. Dean didn't do it for long though as he pulled it back and tossed it on the ground, leaving a burn mark in its wake.

"You...you..." Jack panted, clearly in pain. Dean just smiled and blew out a cloud of smoke right in the kid's face, making him cough and splutter.

"You're not as tough as you look are ya'? You're just all talk." He shook his head, still keeping the kid pinned to the wall as the other looked on in shock.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack yelled as he tried to escape.

"And you're stupid too." Dean sighed. "Let me tell you something. I'm not a bad guy. I'm actually pretty nice, but I don't take shit from monsters. And when someone hurts someone I care about, that makes them a monster. I can't stand things like you."

"I...I won't hurt him again! I swear!" Jack was pleading now, but Dean wasn't giving in.

"I know you won't. I'm going to make sure of that. I just can't believe that you would wish Sam dead just because he can't walk and you want him out of your way. Sam is such a caring and smart person, he's going to make it far in life, paralyzed or not, it doesn't matter. He's going to be able to do loads of great things even if he is in a wheelchair. But what are you going to do? You're a druggie, almost a murderer, and go around beating innocent kids? You think you're worth something?" He spat in Jack's face.

Jack had no reply as he struggled under Dean's intense glare.

"'Cause you're too dim-witted, let me inform you. You're not worth a piece of shit if you do things like that. You know where you're gonna end up? Homeless, broke and eventually behind bars. I hope you want to spend your life in prison, cause that's where it's headin', jerk."

"Why would I go to prison? I didn't do anything wrong." Jack struggled in Dean's strong grip, trying to get away, but Dean easily held him pinned to the wall with one arm.

"Really? Well maybe after a little nap, it will help you realize where you're goin' in life." He smirked.

"Wha..." Jack started but it was too late because Dean already slammed his head into the brick wall, knocking him out. He wanted to beat the kid to a pulp so badly, but he was better than that, he wasn't a pathetic almost-murderer like this loser. And plus, he couldn't risk getting into too much trouble. Sam needed him.

Turning around, Dean saw Alex just standing there, looking up at him with a mixture of expressions on his face.

"I'd be gettin' out of here if I was you kid. If you ever lay another finger on my friend, I'll find you." He watched as the kid nodded and ran off. Hopefully he was able to teach these morons a lesson.

* * *

 

When Dean returned back he found his Dad's truck parked in a different space than it was in before. Curious, he parked the Impala next to it and got out. At that moment his father came out from a different motel room.

"Dad? Why'd you switch rooms?" Dean asked and raised his eyebrows in question.

"Sam told me he had to use the bathroom. I realized that he would probably need those special bars and stuff in the bathroom and shower. So I checked outta that room and got a handicap room." John smiled at Dean's dumbfounded expression. "I put one of the motel chairs in the bathroom so he can get on and off the toilet without anyone helping him 'till he gets a new chair."

Dean was really shocked when he heard that his father had thought of all this for Sam. John rarely took the time to think about their own needs other than hunting. Maybe Sam would change that, make him see that they had other needs that needed to be addressed first before hunting. He knew that his father cared, he just needed a way to show it.

"That...that's good Dad." Dean really didn't know what to say. "How's he doing?"

"He's running a slight fever, I gave him some Tylenol to bring it down but he's sleeping right now. You didn't get into any trouble, did you Dean?" John half asked, half warned him.

"Nope, I took care of them, nothing serious."

John nodded and then looked Dean right in the eyes. "Dean...what are we going to do when it's time to leave?" He had seemed to be thinking about this.

"We have to take him with us Dad, we can't leave him with that family and I'll be damned if we leave him to another family that could treat him just as bad. He needs a family that will treat him well and care for him." Dean looked at his father with pleading eyes.

John sighed. "Dean...if we were any other family...if we weren't hunting, I'd agree to that right away. I like Sam, I really do Dean. I would gladly adopt him but we're hunters. How could I explain to Sam about how we move around so much, what my job is. "

"We'll find a way Dad! We can make something up! Or we could tell him the truth eventually! He's really smart Dad, he could help me with research and get it done a lot quicker. "

"Dean, do you think it would be good for Sam to have him moving around all the time? I want the best for him, but he's paralyzed son, that makes things a lot more difficult."

"Dad! Sam told me he's been paralyzed all his life! It's not like something that just happened! He's used to it and he knows how to adapt to everything around him! He'd be fine moving around! He just needs people that truly care for him. He told me he wouldn't care if he had to move all around, as long as he had a family!" Dean raised his voice as he tried to get his point across. Sam staying with them would be best for all of them.

"He told you that?" John asked quietly.

"Yeah, he did. And he said how much he likes it to be with us. And Dad...I don't know...it just seems right having him with us. It seems right if he would become part of our family. I don't know why but it does." Dean didn't dare to look at his father. Persuading him to let Sam stay with them seemed like the most important thing in the world right now.

"I know what you mean son. I feel like he should be protected like he was my own son," John admitted.

"Then can he stay with us? Please Dad. Because if you won't let him then I'll just stay here with him. I don't want to leave him, I can't." Dean looked up at his father hopefully.

"Dean...I don't have a clue how this is going to work but we'll give it a try. Just...talk to Sam and make sure he's okay with this once he wakes up." John knew he made the right decision when Dean grinned brightly before going into the room to see Sam. He had never seen his son so happy before and he knew it was all because of the younger boy. Hell, it made John happy to have Sam with them. The kid just seemed to fit into their family perfectly and bring to them all the things they knew were missing. It was strange, like Sam was almost meant to be with them, but it just felt so right to have him as a part of the family. Even John couldn't deny that.

* * *

"Hey Sammy, you feeling okay?" Sam heard Dean's voice as soon as he opened his eyes. He slowly turned his head and saw Dean sitting next to him on the bed.

"Feel sick...tired..," he mumbled because he really did feel like crap. He was sweating but shivering at the same time and he knew he had at least a fever.

"I'm sorry about that buddy. Here take some of these." Dean handed him some more Tylenol along with a glass of water as he helped him sit up. Sam gratefully took them, swallowing all the water in two sips. Yeah, he did feel like crap but he was also happy at the same time. Happy that he was getting taken care of for once in his life. It felt good and he didn't want it to stop, he didn't want to ever have to leave Dean.

"Thanks." Sam managed a small smile at which Dean ruffled his hair in a brotherly manner. Sam would never tell Dean how much those simple actions meant to him, a playful punch in the shoulder, a quick hug, messing with his hair. It made him feel wanted, like he really meant something to Dean.

"Guess what? I have some good news for you." Dean smiled and Sam could tell that this must be something really good.

"What? Something about Jack and Alex?" he asked with interest.

Dean smiled and shook his head. "Not about them. But I did take care of them. That Jack kid...he is a big asshole Sammy. But I'm pretty sure I taught him a lesson."

"Thanks Dean. What's the other good news you wanted to tell me?" Sam was curious.

"My dad said you can stay with us." Dean grinned and Sam gasped at the same time. "That he can adopt you...although I don't know how that would work since we pretty much took you from the foster home. So we might not be able to legally do it since we can't exactly explain how we found you. But yeah...you get to stay with us. I'll stop rambling now." It was really obvious that Dean was excited, Sam never heard him so happy before.

And Sam...he couldn't even explain how happy he was...it was beyond words! He couldn't believe that a family actually wanted to take him in and liked him! He wasn't going to have to leave Dean! They would be like brothers! It was so weird to think of it but also so amazing at the same time.

"You...you okay with it Sam?" Dean asked, he must have been confused by Sam's lack of response so Sam grinned hugely.

"Of course I am Dean! I...I just don't know what to say...I...I..." Sam tried to control his emotions but failed miserably as he started bawling.

"Hey...hey...don't cry Sammy...Come on now..." Sam felt Dean put an arm around him.

"I'm...I'm just so happy Dean...thank you...thank you!" Sam sniffed as he leaned against Dean, still crying.

"You have nothing to thank me for," Dean told him. "Are you sure you'll be okay with this...moving around all the time?" he asked with an uncertain tone.

"Of course I will," Sam said earnestly. "I think it would be fun to see a bunch of different places. What...what job does your dad do?"

"He hunts," Dean told him simply. "All different kinds of animals and then meets with people in certain towns that will trade with him. He knows a lot of different hunters but that's why he's gone for long periods of time."

"Oh ok. That makes sense." Sam wondered why Dean's dad would want to get a hunting job. He didn't think it would pay that much. But before he could ask Dean changed the topic.

"So I went to stop at the hospital a few towns over about getting a new wheelchair for you but they said you'd have to be fitted for it first. Do you want to go tomorrow to get one that you can actually fit in? And don't even start about the whole 'don't pay for it' thing 'cause we're your family now Sam." Dean smiled.

Sam still couldn't believe it...he was part of Dean's family now...it was all so surreal. The word was so foreign to him yet it seemed right to think of Dean and his father, especially Dean, as family. "Okay. Thank you Dean." He just couldn't stop smiling.

"Stop thanking me butthead. Pretty soon I'll bet you're gonna be sick and tired of having me around and would want to get away from me as much as possible." Dean laughed.

"I seriously doubt that." Sam wanted Dean to know how much he appreciated him for everything and that he wanted to stay with him.

"Yeah, well we'll see about that." Dean smirked.

* * *

 

Dean made some chicken soup later and forced Sam to eat even though he wasn't hungry, saying that 'you need to get some meat on your bones Sam'. And Sam couldn't deny that, so he rolled his eyes and forced himself to swallow all of the soup.

Sam felt himself starting to doze out around nine o' clock. He hated that about being sick, you were always tired as well. Dean smiled when he noticed it.

"Go on to sleep Sammy, I'll take the couch." he said causing Sam to frown. "What's the matter?" Dean asked him, noticing his frown.

"See, I'm getting in the way. Now you have nowhere to sleep." Sam sighed. He didn't want Dean to have to sleep on the couch. Dean could just lay in the bed with him, Sam would actually like it if he did, it would make him feel protected and safe knowing Dean was right there. He spent too much time sleeping alone on a hard mattress, wondering if the foster kids would come home during the night and want to beat him up. But it was obvious to Sam that Dean didn't want to lay by him, that was probably way too weird for him.

"You're not getting in the way Sam. Not at all. I don't mind sleeping on the couch, or I could just lay in my dad's bed until he gets back. I could lay with you but you'd probably think it's weird." Sam couldn't believe it. Dean wouldn't mind laying with him, he just had the same worry Sam had...he thought Sam would think it was weird.

"No. I...I don't mind Dean." Sam tried to hide the fact that he was shaking because he was afraid to be alone.

"You sure? I just didn't want you to be creeped out." Dean smiled.

"Yeah, it's fine. We're...we're like brothers anyway now, right?" Sam smiled back.

"Yeah, I guess we are." Dean nodded and got into bed next to Sam. " 'Night Sammy," he said as he turned off the light.

Sam turned his upper body in the bed so he was facing Dean. " 'Night Dean." And for once in his life, with Dean right there, Sam actually felt safe and secure before he went to sleep. For once he knew that no one was going to hurt him. But the best thing of all was that when he woke up, he would be right here and this time, he knew he wasn't going to leave.

* * *

 

The next morning Dean woke up and saw John sorting things into what looked like a new suitcase.

"Whataya doin' Dad?" Dean groaned as he sat up in bed.

"I bought Sam some clothes and stuff. I didn't know what his shoe size would be so I bought him a couple different sizes. But he looks to be as tall as you and me so this stuff should fit him. I got him his own suitcase too."

"What? You were...shopping last night? I thought you left to go hunting?" Dean asked in awe. His father actually went shopping?

"No. Why are you acting so surprised? I can do other things other than hunt ya' know," John said.

"I know but you...shopping...actually shopping..." Dean had to try hard not to laugh.

"Shut up." John smirked. "If Sam's going to be moving around with us, he'll need his own suitcase and clothes."

"Yeah I know." Dean rolled his eyes and then looked over at the still-sleeping Sam with a smile. "I was going to get him fitted for a new wheelchair today at the hospital a few towns over. I know he's not feeling well but he needs the chair as soon as possible."

"I'm coming too," John said and Dean turned to him in wonder. What was up with his father? He actually was going to spend time doing something other than hunting? But Dean let it pass and smiled.

"Okay Dad."

__________________________________________________________________________

Sam was still not feeling well, he was actually looking worse than yesterday and his temperature was higher.

"You don't have to go today Sam if you don't want to," Dean informed his sick friend.

"No, I'm goin'," Sam mumbled groggily. Dean carried Sam to the chair John had placed in the bathroom so he could ease himself onto the toilet and the shower stool that was in the tub.

"I've never seen this before." Sam pointed to the stool when Dean carried him in there.

"Really? All the handicap rooms have them in the showers." Dean would know because sometimes they had to get the rooms when they were the only ones left. "How did you..."

"My foster parents didn't give a crap about how I was going to take a shower. When I was younger, they would help me. After that, they just forgot about it. I learned to manage." Sam shrugged. The more he told him about his past life the more angry Dean became. He should have taken a detour when he was going after those kids and should have had a little chat with the parents as well...

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore. Here's some new clothes." Dean handed him a fresh pair of jeans and a sweat shirt.

Sam looked at the offered clothes and Dean saw his eyes well up again. Poor kid probably wasn't shown any love or compassion at all growing up, and now he was being overwhelmed by it. "Dean...I..." Sam looked up at Dean, his lip trembling.

"Sam, you don't have to thank me remember? Now go get in the shower and stop being a girl!" Dean smiled and punched Sam in the shoulder to let him know he was just kidding.

"I'm not a girl," Sam pouted while wiping at his eyes.

"Oh yeah, then what's that stuff coming out of your eyes huh?" Dean smirked which earned him a glare from Sam.

"Shuddup Dean!" Sam whined and grabbed the nearest role of toilet paper and chucked it at Dean, hitting him right in the forehead.

"Hey, nice shot." Dean was impressed.

"Whatever," Sam grumbled and folded his arms.

"You know I'm just kiddin' with you right?" Dean decided to make sure, he didn't want Sam actually angry at him.

"I know." Sam smiled. "Now close the door. I can help myself."

* * *

 

The shower seemed to have exhausted Sam because the whole ride to the hospital he was fast asleep. When Dean looked at Sam's flushed face and shivering it made him wish he would have given those kids a proper beating. But he knew he did the right thing by not getting into trouble. He smiled when Sam slumped against him in his sleep, head on his shoulder.

They finally got there and Dean woke Sam up and carried him inside. It wasn't long before the doctor called him in. They told the doctor that they had just adopted Sam, and his old wheelchair had broke. After a while of measuring Sam and placing him in a few chairs, they found the right one. Sam insisted that they didn't get an electric one that he could control without pushing. He said that he wanted to push himself around, it allowed more flexibility and gave him a workout in his arms.

"So Sam, when is the last time you have gotten a check-up?" the doctor asked. "It's important that people with spinal injuries are checked on often to see if there's anything that can be done to help you. There are always new advancements concerning spinal injuries."

"Well, my old foster parents didn't care much, my last check-up was years ago, I can't even remember."

"I can see that you're not feeling well right now. How about we schedule you for a check-up in the upcoming week when you're feeling better?" The doctor asked and then looked at John.

"That'd be great." John smiled and looked at Sam who just shrugged.

In Sam's opinion, he'd rather not get the check-up. He'd been this way his whole life and he was honestly okay with it. He didn't want to get his hopes up for some cure that probably wouldn't happen.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time the next week rolled around Sam was feeling better but he still had a cold. He had to get all the work he missed for two days on Monday and he felt bad because Dean had missed those two days as well and stayed home with him.

"Sam, I'm no scholar student, and I'd much rather stay home with you than go to school all alone," Dean had told him when Sam brought it up.

Home. The word bounced around in his head and made him dizzy, in a good way that is. He was still having a hard time believing that he now had a home, and he wasn't going to lose his best friend. He had a family now, and even though they couldn't adopt him legally it didn't matter to Sam. There was no way Dean's father would be able to do that since they moved around all the time and the adoption agency would want a secure home for Sam and ask where he was from and why they would want to adopt him. Too many things went into factor there.

Sam couldn't find himself able to concentrate on the history lecture they were receiving and jumped when he felt a piece of paper hit his arm. He looked on his desk and saw a crumpled ball of paper. Uncrinkling it he rolled his eyes as he saw Dean's now familiar handwriting. It read _'I'm bored. Where you wanna go for lunch?'_

Sam knew that Dean's dyslexia was a reading disorder, but it also affected the way he wrote somewhat too. Because when you go to write something, you have to read it out in your mind first, and Dean sometimes got words mixed up or left out a word. It wasn't that Dean was stupid, he knew how a sentence should look and he knew how it should be said, letters just looked jumbled to him sometimes. If Dean was to write an essay and read it out to the class, he would fail but Sam was confident that if Dean were to give a speech from memory, it would be flawless.

But Dean's reading and writing was getting a little better. Sam remembered hearing that a person learns the most when they are a young child. If someone had been working with Dean when he was younger, Dean's dyslexia probably wouldn't be this big of a problem. But when Dean just wrote little simple things like what he just wrote to Sam, he did it fine. The writing was a bit sloppy like he was thinking too hard about the letters but he wrote fine. Only when Dean had to write long sentences he got confused and mixed things up.

But Sam was determined to help Dean the best he could. He wasn't going to let him down.

Sam smiled at the note on his desk once again. Grabbing his pencil he wrote under Dean's note: _'What are you? A middle school aged girl passing notes?! I don't know, we could try staying at the school for once and see if you like the food.'_ He made sure his words were big and further apart so Dean could read it easier.

After he wrote it he crumpled the paper back up and looked around the class. Half the class was sleeping and the other half was staring off into space, the teacher was buried into the book he was drawling from. Sam took the paper and chucked it at Dean who was sitting a mere two feet away from him. It hit Dean on the side of the head and he uncrumpled it. Reading it, his eyes scanned the sentences a couple times over as to make sure he was reading it right. After a minute a smirk appeared on his face. Looking at Sam, he shrugged, agreeing to the idea of eating in the school cafeteria. Then he crumpled the paper back up and whipped it back at Sam.

At the end of class Dean and Sam were putting their books back in their backpacks when the teacher came up to them. Sam hadn't liked the guy since he spoke out loud to the class rudely about Dean on his first day.

"Sam, Dean you guys weren't here when I passed back the tests. Here you go." He handed back their papers.

Sam looked at the big 'A+' written on the top of his test. But it wasn't his score he cared about, he went to stuff it into his backpack when Dean stopped him.

"Hey, whatdidya get?" he asked and grabbed the paper from Sam. He smiled when he saw the grade, no hint of jealousy or anger in his smile, just pure happiness. "Great job Sammy!" He patted him on the shoulder before he gave it back.

Sam didn't want to press Dean into saying what he got but Sam figured they knew each other well enough by now and Dean wouldn't get mad. "What did you get?" he asked.

"Oh nothin' it doesn't matter." Dean shrugged but Sam could see something in his eyes, something that showed that he might just be proud of himself.

"Yes it does, let me see!" Sam begged and yanked the paper out of Dean's hands.

Looking at the big 'C' on the paper Sam was shocked. To him, a 'C' would be like a death sentence but to Dean it was a whole other story. Dean had always said how he failed all of his tests before, and that was the reason he was two grades behind in school. A 'C' was a major improvement for Dean.

"I know it's not great but....I-I didn't know that I was gonna pass. I mean, I wanted to pass, I thought maybe I got a 'D' but I ended up getting a 'C', I..." Dean rambled. It was obvious that he was embarrassed to tell Sam how good this was for him because Sam was getting all A's.

"Dean, this is great!" Sam grinned broadly. "A 'C' isn't bad Dean, it's an average grade! You did great!" Sam hoped that Dean would believe him because it was the truth.

"You really think so?" Dean questioned him with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Yes Dean! You did do great!" Sam told him yet again.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Dean's face then. "Yeah, well it's all 'cause of you." He paused for a moment. "Thanks man."

"No, it's not all because of me," Sam replied. "You worked hard for this Dean. I didn't take the test for you, just helped you study. This was all you."

"Well I couldn't do it without you," Dean said as they left the classroom and headed towards the cafeteria. "So those stupid jocks usually don't stay at school for lunch?"

"No, they always go out somewhere and cause trouble." Sam tried to maneuver his way through the stampede of kids. He accidentally wheeled over someone's foot, causing the kid to yelp in pain. Looking up, he recognized the girl as one of the 'popular' kids that had been in their last class.

"Sorry, I'm still getting used to my new chair, I..."

"Watch where you're going cripple!" the girl hissed at him, completely ignoring his apologies. And then in the next second, to Sam's surprise Dean was right up in her face.

"I don't care if you're a girl, if you say one more thing to him like that..." he growled before she cut him off.

"Why? W-what are y-you g-going t-o to d-do stupid?" she laughed mimicking Dean's stuttering.

"He's not stupid! Leave him alone!" Sam shouted and even surprised himself. He never talked out to anyone, always kept to himself and tried not to cause any trouble. But he couldn't help it, it just got him so mad when people made fun of Dean like that.

But Dean just shook his head and turned away. It was like she could insult him all she wanted and Dean wouldn't care, but say one thing about Sam and Dean was at her throat. "Don't bother Sammy. Let's just go get lunch," he mumbled as they continued their way down the hallway. Sam watched as Dean popped a piece of Nicorette in his mouth. "I can't wait to leave this town."

"Me too," Sam agreed. "I'm glad I'm coming with you."

That got Dean's frown to disappear as he smiled down at Sam. "So am I."

* * *

Dean had been smoking ever since they got into the Impala, and now he and Sam were back at the motel. He didn't know why he was feeling so stressed. He had the feeling that he was letting Sam down, just like he let everyone else down. He was a disappointment to his father because he couldn't do research fast enough, he let his baby brother die, and now he couldn't help but feel like being a disappointment to Sam as well. When that girl started making fun of him...it made him realize how stupid he must be. Sam was practically a genius, and he was stuck with a guy who couldn't read, a guy who thought getting C's on his tests were good.

It just made him feel like Sam could do better with someone smarter, someone who could actually read and didn't fail twice. He knew he was beating himself up way too much but he couldn't help it.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked him as he put his school book down.

"Huh?" Dean looked over to Sam only to see the kid looking extremely worried. Great, now look what he was doing to him! "Nothin' Sam. I'm fine." He sighed and went to take a drag of his cigarette only to see that it was out. He ran a hand over his face and put it in the ashtray before lighting a new one. His father was going to give him hell for smoking inside...

"Dean, you haven't stopped smoking since we got out of school," Sam pointed out.

"I just wasn't used to not smoking during lunch like I'm used to. I needed a smoke." Dean tried to wave it off and put the cigarette back in his mouth.

"Dean I've never seen you smoke so much before. It's only been about an hour and your done with that whole pack. Something's wrong Dean. What is it?" And normally if someone asked him what was wrong, Dean would just blow it off. But the look that Sam had on his face....the look of actual concern and worry...Dean couldn't deny that.

"I...I...god Sam...I..." Dean never had the chance to open up to someone before and he didn't know how to do it. He never had the chance to share his feelings and now that he was....he didn't know how to handle it.

"Dean, it's okay. You can tell me." Sam pushed himself over to Dean. "Sit down, relax. It's okay, you can tell me anything. I'm not going to judge you Dean."

Dean sighed and did what Sam told him to by sitting down on the bed and faced Sam who was waiting patiently across from him in his wheelchair. Dean took another drag of his cigarette, trying to find a way out of this, but he knew Sam wouldn't let him out of this without explaining what was wrong. He sighed again, smoke blowing out of his mouth and just decided to get it over with.

"I feel like I'm letting you down," he blurted out and felt his cheeks go red with embarrassment. Quickly, he put the cigarette back in his mouth to hide it.

"Dean...w-what??" Sam was clearly confused and had not been expecting that to come out of Dean's mouth. "How in the world do you feel like you're letting me down? You're my best friend Dean, you talked to me and offered me help when no one else would. You saved my life when those kids left me out in the cold! You gave me a place to live and a family! How is that letting me down, huh?"

"You deserve a friend that isn't stupid. Someone who can help you with homework instead of needing your help." Dean was ashamed. He finished his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray, watching the lingering smoke dance around in the air before disappearing.

"Dean." Sam's voice was quiet and a little hurt. "You're not stupid, not stupid at all. You have a disability like me except yours is a learning one instead of a physical one. I know it's hard to deal with the stuff people say but you gotta know it's not true. Your dyslexic, not stupid." He tore his gaze away and looked at the ground. "How could you say I don't deserve you? I can't think of a better friend than you. You...you don't want to be my friend anymore? Is that what you’re saying? Because I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you."

And god, Dean wanted to kill himself right there and then. Sam had completely misunderstood him and now he was upset. He quickly got off the bed and knelt down beside his best friend. "Hey, hey Sammy. That's not what I meant, not at all. Of course I still want to be your friend, I just don't want you to be disappointed in me. You're the best friend I could ever ask for." Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

Sam looked back up at Dean, his eyes sparkling with tears that wouldn't fall. "You never disappointed me Dean. Everything you've done has helped me, you've never let me down. You believe me?" He looked at him with eyes that where shimmering with unshed tears.

"Yeah, I do Sam. But I can't shake off this feeling that I’m going to let you down one day and it will be all my fault. Just like I let my Dad down, and my little brother..." Dean trailed off then, he forgot that he never told Sam about his brother.

"Your brother's death was not your fault Dean!" Sam said stubbornly and Dean looked up at him in shock.

"How do you know he died....?" he asked, mouth hanging open.

"When you took off that other day to go after those kids, I thought you were upset at me. But your dad told me you weren't, you just wanted to protect me. He explained about what happened with your brother and how you wanted to protect me as well. He needed to tell me that so I would understand why you were so overprotective."

Dean didn't know rather to be angry at his father for relieving his secret or to be happy that he wasn't the one who had to explain it to Sam. He decided to push that aside for now though, it wasn't important. "It was my fault he died, I fell and didn't get up to get him in time," he said dully. He felt a draft like a window had just been opened but didn't care to turn around and close it.

"No Dean! It's not your fault at all! It was just a whole bunch of bad luck, you can't blame yourself for tripping! You were four years old!" Sam raised his voice and Dean couldn’t help but smile. It was weird hearing Sam raise his voice, he always seemed calm or emotional, but never loud. "No one can blame you for that. See, I was found on the ground in some alley in Kansas when I was just six months old Dean. I could blame my parents for leaving me there but I don't know if that happened. Maybe it was just a whole bunch of bad events and they never wanted to lose me, just like what happened with you and your brother."

But Dean had stopped listening after the words 'six months old' and 'Kansas'. His mind was whirling around with so many thoughts and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. It couldn't be possible, could it? Surely there had been more six months old babies named Sam in Kansas back then.

"Six months?!" he interrupted Sam in the middle of a sentence he never heard.

Sam looked at him with confusion.

"You said you were six months old when you were found? And in Kansas?" Dean knew he must look like a lunatic right now.

"Yeah...they told me I was about 6 months old, but maybe I’m a month younger or older, I don’t know. Why?" 

But Dean didn’t answer the question. "How did they name you in the orphanage? Why did they pick the name Sam? It wasn't as if you could have told them your name." He didn't even realize he was clutching Sam's shirt until Sam looked down at his hand and back up at Dean with worry.

"Dean, are you okay? You look sick and you're panting, what's..."

"How did they pick your name Sam?!" Dean asked again, his eyes boring into Sam's too familiar hazel ones.

"They...they told me I was wearing an outfit that had my name sewed onto it. It said 'Sam'. They showed me a picture they took of me when they first found me, it was light blue and...wait, why does this matter Dean?"

But Dean was already up and scrambling through his wallet. He was back in a second and thrust a picture at Sam. "My brother was six months old when he supposedly died. This! Was it this outfit?!" He pointed at the little baby boy being held by Dean with his mother and father on either side.

Sam stared at it for a moment only for his eyes to go wide. "Yeah. That's...that's it...what...that looks like...me...what..." Sam went speechless as he stared at Dean in awe, finally realizing what had just happened.

"I should have known it from the start!" Dean was gasping, almost breathless. "The eyes, the dimples, the way we get along so well. I knew I felt something! They never found the ashes...you were never dead...Kansas, six months...." Dean stopped pacing and walked back over to Sam, tears in his own eyes now. He pointed to the picture in Sam's hand. "That's me, that's my mom, that's my dad and....and t-that's, that's you. You're...you're my Sammy....my little brother..."

And for a moment, Sam and Dean just stared at each other, realizing what all this meant...they were each other's brother, real biological brother. And then, in a flash they were both crying and Sam somehow ended up in Dean's arms and Dean was sitting on the ground holding him tightly. Nothing else needed to be said, their emotions spoke for them.

Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair as they cried and buried his face in his _brother's_ shoulder. He felt Sam cling tightly to him, his arms wrapping around him so tightly he could barely breathe but it didn't matter. Because this....this was too good to be true. He had his baby brother back. He had never died! He was alive and safe in his arms and Dean was afraid if he ever let Sam go he would realize that he was only dreaming and none of it were true.

Dean heard Sam whispering something over and over again and it took him a while to recognize what he was saying.

"Big brother," Sam was sobbing over and over again in choked gasps. "I-I h-have a big brother...Dad....f-family..."

And then the door swung open from behind them and John was standing in front of them, tears streaming down his face. His father was actually really truly _crying._ Something Dean hadn't seen since after the fire. And then Dean understood the draft he had felt earlier. It wasn't an open window, it was his father opening the door to come in. He must have stopped when he heard Sam and Dean talking and listened in. He had heard everything.

Sam's puffy red eyes were staring at John now and Dean let go of him.

"Sammy," was John's only whispered word before he walked over and picked Sam up in one quick motion. Not minding the fact that Sam was fourteen and almost as tall as John, he held him like a baby and Dean watched as Sam wrapped his long arms around his father's neck.

"My boy..," John whispered through his tears. "My baby boy."

And through this heart-wrenching reunion Dean's mind was able to settle just a little as he realized what he had done.

 _Baby Sam falling from his grasp, slamming his back into the wall..._

That's how Sam had been paralyzed. It all made sense now.

Sam was paralyzed because of Dean. He would never be able to walk because of what Dean had done.

And not only that but Sam had been put in an uncaring foster home, ignored and beat for fun by the older kids. All because Dean had dropped him that day.

Forget the fact that somehow Sam had gotten out of that burning house, probably by the thing that had started the fire and killed their mother. Dean had dropped him; crippling him, abandoning him, and causing his father heartbreak all in one go. Sam would never forgive him once he realized this, he would hate him for life, hate his big brother.

What had he done?!

"I did this to you," he whispered in shock. Sam turned his head and stared at Dean, his eyebrows furrowed before he understood.

"No, Dean! It's not your..."

Not being able to handle his thoughts any longer, or hear how Sam hated him Dean took off out the door. Running out of the motel, guilt surging through him like a wildfire, Dean didn't hear his father's and brother's calls for him, begging him to come back.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean ran out into the evening, not aware of where he was going. The only thing he could think of at the moment was the fact that he had paralyzed Sammy, his _baby brother._ It was all his fault that Sam was in a wheelchair and had never been able to walk. He had dropped him and because of that Dean had not only paralyzed his brother but had caused him to live in an uncaring foster home. Sam's life had been like that all because of what Dean had done fourteen years ago.

He was a horrible brother, god he didn't even deserve to be a brother! Sam deserved to have a much better brother than Dean, not someone who nearly killed him. Dean could just imagine how disgusted Sam must be right now. He finally found out he had a real family only to know that his older brother was the one who ruined his life, that his best friend was someone that had crippled him. Sam would never want to talk to him again and was probably horrified that he had to be stuck with Dean.

But Dean couldn't just leave even though Sam would want him to. He had to come back and at least try to protect him, try to make up for what he did. He really liked Sam, he was his best friend and now his brother, and even if Sam hated him Dean couldn't leave him. If anything happened to Sam he would blame himself, he had to be there to look out for the kid.

But he just had to get out right now because at the moment, he just couldn't stand to see the hurt and anger that was in Sam's eyes. He needed some time to himself to prepare for how angry Sam would be.

Dean stopped his running and slumped to the ground on the curb in front of some convenience stores. He felt tears in his eyes and angrily pushed them back. This was his fault, he shouldn't be allowed the release of tears. He rummaged through his coat pocket for his cigarettes and growled when there was only one more left. Realizing what he did to Sam Dean was seeing himself smoking even more in the future, forget trying to cut back.

He lit the cigarette quickly. He didn't take any breaks between the drags and ended up nearly hacking his brains out from too much smoke. Coughing and trying to get his breathing under control, Dean scanned the area with watery eyes and found a gas station on the corner. Even though his throat was still burning he took one last long drag of his cigarette before standing up and heading over to the gas station to buy more.

Once he was in Dean counted his money and used it all to buy five packs of cigarettes. He wondered if he would even last two days and ignored the slightly disgusted look the cashier was giving him.

"You're only eighteen sweetie. You shouldn't smoke and ruin your body so early," she said as she was eying his license. "It's going to wear you down quickly and when you're older you'll be wishing you never started."

"Yeah well whatta you know about it lady?" Dean grumbled irritably and pocketed his smokes. This was so opposite of his personality but right now Dean couldn't be feeling any worse. He barely even noticed that the cashier was an attractive woman.

"I'm just telling you the truth kid." She was unfazed by Dean's rudeness. "You're killing yourself smoking so young."

But before Dean could reply the woman's expression changed to that of fear and she let out a long scream, her eyes focused on something behind Dean.

Dean spun around quickly only to be met with a gun in his face.

"Nobody move! This is a robbery!" The kid who was pointing the gun at Dean had a hood mask over his eyes.

Dean thought that maybe he should have been expecting something like this. This was only one of the few gas stations he'd seen with a woman running the cashier that was younger than 35. She was attractive and seemed easily frightened. It was a perfect target for robberies.

The couple other people in the building put their hands up or got to the ground and the cashier was frozen. For some reason the robber was still pointing the gun at Dean. And Dean didn't have any of his weapons on him. Crap.

"I'm I still not tough huh buddy?" the robber asked with a sneer and Dean realized with wide eyes who this kid was.

"Jack," he growled in a whisper. "Where's your little buddy?"

"He chickened out, didn't want anything to do with this and ran away. But you see, I am tougher than you thought. You just caught me off guard when I was high back there." Jack chuckled.

"That's not very tough when you're using a gun for an advantage. It just shows how scared you are."

"Now you're just saying that because you're the one that's scared. Because you know I'll win." Jack laughed before moving his hand to point the gun at the cashier. "Give me all the money!" he yelled at the frightened woman.

Dean took this opportunity to knee the kid in the crotch. When he doubled over Dean punched him in the head, knocking him out. Then he hurried over to the cashier.

"Call the cops, and then get out of here!" he ordered and turned to everyone else. "You guys too, get out while it's safe!"

Dean watched as the other victims scrambled out and turned around to see if the cashier had called yet.

"Look out!" she screamed but before Dean could register what was going on a gunshot rang out and he tumbled to the ground in pain and shock. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jack on the ground, gun still raised. He must have come to his senses earlier than Dean had expected. A familiar voice calling out to him was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

* * *

"He...he left..." Sam whispered as John placed him back in his wheelchair. "It's...it's not his fault! It was an accident!"

"Sam, what are you talking about? What was an accident?" John was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the boy sitting in front of him was his long lost son.

"He...I think he's blaming himself for me being paralyzed when he dropped me," Sam said in a small voice, more tears falling down his face.

Suddenly it all made sense to John. Sam must have damaged or broken his spine when Dean had dropped him somehow. And Dean was blaming himself for that. Hell, Dean was probably blaming himself for Sam getting taken away from their family as well.

"He just needs some time to think about it Sam. Dean probably thought you would hate him or something like that so he took off for a bit. He wasn't leaving you for good." John bent down to stroke his _son's_ hair. It was so unbelievable that this was his baby boy, that Sam had never died! He was right here in front of his eyes, alive and breathing!

"I-I want to find him. We have to find him and bring him back!" Sam said with surprising determination. "We have to let him know it's not his fault! This was supposed to be a happy time. It was an accident and I don't blame Dean for any of it! He's my best friend!"

Something told John he should go out and look as Sam said instead of waiting for Dean to return on his own. "Okay," he nodded and stood up. "We'll find him Sammy."

* * *

Driving around the town, John couldn't find a sight of Dean and Sam was starting to get extremely worried. The kid didn't know that they were hunters and how tough Dean was and he was afraid for his brother. He saw Sam's lip trembling as his teary eyes roamed the streets frantically, desperate for a sight of Dean.

John was about to turn at an intersection when he saw a group of screaming people run out of what looked like a gas station a block ahead. So instead he went forward and stopped in front of the station where he immediate understood what was going on, the station was getting robbed.

"It's Dean!" Sam cried and pointed at the building where John was able to see the back of his son who was trying to help the cashier. John relaxed. Dean took care of it. Thatta boy. But just as John was getting out of the car he heard a gunshot go off and the next thing he saw was Dean falling to the ground.

The fall was followed by Sam's loud scream of horror as John rushed into the gas station. His eyes fell on his son who was limp and not moving, a small pool of blood forming around his stomach. But then John saw the robber a few feet away with a gun in hand, ready to fire again.

The last thing someone wanted to do was hurt someone John Winchester cared about.

"You better think twice before pulling that trigger," John growled which caused the robber to look up in distraction, but John was already above him. Not wasting any time he rammed the kid's head against the ground multiple times before sending in one final blow. When the boy was out cold he hurried over to his bleeding son to check the wound. Turning Dean around gently John found where the blood was coming from. Dean had been shot in his left side, but John knew from experience that it was just a flesh wound. It hadn't hit any organs, thank God.

"Is...is he alright?" the cashier asked, slowly walking over. "I called the cops, they're on their way with an ambulance."

"It looks like a flesh wound, he should be fine, thanks," John said while propping up his son.

"No probl...is that your kid?" she asked, staring out the window.

John followed her gaze and gasped. Sam was on the ground, inching his way toward the door by dragging himself with his arms. He was sobbing and crying out Dean's name as he did so, his arms were shaking so badly John had no idea how he was managing to pull himself. Geeze if these boys were this attached to each other already, he was never going to be able to get them apart.

"He's...he's my son," John said and it felt so good to say that. "He's...he's worried about his brother. He's paralyzed."

"I can help him for you." The lady went to get Sam. It was obvious how frightened and shocked she was and she wanted to do anything to keep her busy and keep her mind off of what had just happened. In a minute Sam was seated right beside John and Dean.

"Dean! Oh god, he's bleeding so much! He's...he's not going to...to..." Sam was panting, his arms were outstretched as if he wanted to touch Dean but was too afraid he was going to hurt him.

"He's not going to die Sammy, it's okay. It's just a flesh wound." Despite of John's words Sam's expression never changed and the tears continued to fall.

But then Dean started groaning in John's arms and his eyes flickered open blearily.

"Dean!" Sam cried out his brother's name once again, his voice cracking.

Dean turned his head slowly to the sound of Sam's voice. "Sammy?" he moaned and looked up at his father. "Dad? What...?"

"You were shot in the robbery son. But you're going to be okay, it's just a flesh wound."

"Mmm 'kay." Dean mumbled, clearly out of it. "Sammy okay?" he still managed to ask.

"I'm fine Dean." Sam was still crying but he seemed relieved to see Dean talking.

"Hey, don' cry. I'm sorry," Dean whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry about Dean. You hear me?" Sam demanded.

"M'a bad brother," Dean slurred, his head lolling back in his father's hands.

"No Dean, you're not..." Sam was about to complain but then the paramedics rushed in from the ambulance that just arrived and Dean was taken from Sam and John.

* * *

Sam had been waiting hours for Dean to wake up in his hospital room. The doctors had told them that Dean didn't suffer any major damage and it was indeed a flesh wound. He could come home as soon as he was feeling like it and just needed to get a lot of rest. Sam thanked God for the bullet not hitting anywhere else where it could have caused serious damage. Dean could've been easily dead right now and that thought scared Sam out of his senses.

He caught sight of Dean's eyes opening and waited anxiously to see if he would fully wake this time.

"What the fucking shit...where am I?" Yeah, Dean was awake.

"Dean, hey!" Sam tried to put on his happiest face as Dean turned his tired eyes to him.

"Sammy what...oh crap, I was shot, wasn't I. Ughh crud." He flopped his head onto the pillow.

"It...it was Jack. The cops got 'im." Sam was trying to hold back the lump in his throat.

"Oh yeah, I know. I recognized his voice. You okay?"

Sam couldn't hold in the tears any longer. "You just got shot and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

"Of course, gotta look out for my baby brother right?" He said then sighed. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you Sam. I know I can never make up for it. It's all my fault you're paralyzed."

"What are you talking about! You were four years old! You tripped! It was an accident!" Sam stated matter-of-factly.

"But I dropped you Sam! It's my fault you're in a wheelchair! How can you not hate me for that? You had to live with that family because of what I did!" Dean argued, he was so set of this mindset that it was all his fault.

"Dean, I could never hate you. We're best friends, we were from the start. You're the only one that ever gave me a chance, how in the world could you think I hate you? Things like this happen Dean, it's just a part of life. It was an accident that couldn't be prevented. You were four, scared and tripped over something that was out of your control. I know you didn't mean to do it!" Sam was almost yelling, trying to get Dean to understand where he was coming from.

"That doesn't stop the fact that you had to grow up horribly," Dean muttered.

"Dean, that doesn't matter now. You found me! You saved me! If it wasn't for you I'd be dead right now, frozen in the cold."

"Well if it wasn't for me, that never would've happened to you in the first place!" Dean shot back, a look of defeat on his face.

"I'm back with my family now. Who knows what could've happened if you didn't drop me. Maybe I would've been dead from something else..."

"Sam..." Dean shook his head.

"Well it's true! Maybe it was a good thing that you dropped me! Maybe something bad would've happened to me if I could walk. Who knows! But I found you and I have a dad and a brother now. That's all that matters." A small smile appeared on Sam's face. "Now stop acting like a jerk and let me be glad that you're not seriously injured."

"Sorry, I upset you, Sammy. It's okay...it's..."

"That's right. It's okay Dean, so stop blaming yourself 'cause it wasn't your fault and I don't blame you and never will! You're the best thing that's happened to me." Sam wanted to reach out to Dean, hold his hand or something. Just embrace the fact that he was alive, but he didn't want to hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay." Dean held out his hand. You can touch me, I'm not gonna break Sammy."

But instead Sam practically threw himself at Dean, hugging him tightly from where he sat in his wheelchair.

"You could've died," he whispered in a shaky voice. "I could've lost my big brother, my only friend...I was so scared Dean..."

He felt Dean wrap his arms around him as well. "It's alright Sammy. I'm okay, I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise me you'll stop blaming yourself?" Sam asked in a voice raw from so much crying.

Dean sighed then. "I don't know if I can do that."

Sam pulled back a little. Why couldn't Dean just see that it wasn't his fault? Maybe there was nothing he could say to show him that it wasn't, maybe Dean would learn over time. "Will you promise me you'll try then?"

Dean bit his lip, looking down then back up at Sam. "I'll try but I can't guarantee you anything."

"But I want you to know I don't blame you at all." Sam was desperately trying to get it through Dean's thick skull.

"How...how can you not hate me?" Dean asked him, his eyes wide. "I was all ready for you to be angry at me and ignoring me."

"Dean." Sam groaned, pulling back from the hug and tried looking at him sternly. Though with his bloodshot and watery eyes Sam doubted that worked. "It was a complete accident. I've never minded being paralyzed, it's how I've always been. If I got the chance to walk and then had it taken away from me, then yeah...that would probably hurt. But Dean, all I've ever known has been being in a wheelchair. I'm used to it and it doesn't bother me at all, it's how I am."

"But don't you ever wish you could walk?" Dean asked.

"Of course I do. But like I said, being like this has never bothered me. The way some people treat me has but that just shows me that they aren't worth it. I can tell which people are actually worth the time of day by the ones that actually would talk to me or not look at me like I'm a freak. Like you, you've never treated me any differently Dean because I can't walk. You've never looked at me like I'm weird."

"That's because you're not weird Sam. I hate people that judge others on stupid stuff like this before they ever get to know them. It makes me sick," Dean said with slight disgust in his voice.

Sam nodded and looked down. "I'm so glad you're my brother."

John walked into the room. The surprised look on Dean's face showed Sam that Dean had forgotten about his father and gotten lost in his conversation with Sam.

"Dad..." Dean started

"Hey son." John smiled. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine, can we get out of here? I need a cigarette bad." Sam looked at Dean like he was crazy. He just got shot and he wanted to leave!

"If you're feeling good enough, it's okay with me." John replied. "I was just down getting some coffee and then I had a run-in with the doctor that wanted to give Sam a check-up. He said we could come in tomorrow."

"Really?" both Sam and Dean asked at the same time, causing John to laugh.

"Yeah, he'll do some x-rays first and then see if there are any new advancements that may be able to help you Sammy." He turned to Dean. "If you ever take off like that again Dean...you almost died because you ran away over something that is not your fault. Sam doesn't blame you and neither do I. Do you understand that?" His face was stern, but Sam could see the worry behind the reprimand.

"Yes sir," Dean mumbled.

"Good," John said. "Now the cops are going to come in here so you can give them a witness report. We can get you checked out after that and then...I want us to have some family time, and this time I want it to be happy."

* * *

The three of them were riding back in the Impala. John had taken that instead of his truck because it was easier to lift Sam into it. John was driving with Sam and Dean in the back and Dean was working his way through his third cigarette.

"Ohh man, that feels better." Dean sighed and closed his eyes as he took a long drag. John didn't understand how Dean could feel better with all that smoke in his lungs. Wasn't it choking him or something?

"You're not smoking any of those in the motel Dean. From now on you're to go outside," John ordered him. He had tried earlier to prevent Dean from smoking in the Impala but Dean had said that it was his car and he could do whatever he wanted in it.

Dean had explained to the cops back in the hospital that he had just gone in to buy some cigarettes when the kid came in. He had hit him and gotten everyone out when the kid got up and shot him. His story matched the cashier's and the other victims' and Jack was going to be set for trial on counts of armed robbery and attempted murder.

They finally arrived back at the motel and John had a bit of a hassle trying to first help an injured Dean out of the car and then take care of Sam. John wasn't experienced with setting up the wheelchair but eventually he managed. He was extremely gentle with Sam and held him like he was a prized possession, because to John he really was. This was the son he thought had died. He had missed out on so much of Sam's life and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, doing things that they both missed out on, being a father to his son.

His thoughts got John to realize that he really had never been a father to Dean either. He had focused all his energy on getting him to hunt, defend himself and do research. Dean was dyslexic but John never really had taken out the time to help him. He wondered briefly if his lack of concern in Dean's life was what got him to start smoking in the first place.

Dean didn't deserve that, he deserved a father and so did Sam. John was going to change things around here. Even if Sam did find out about what the hunting really was, which he eventually would, John was not going to spend all his time teaching Sam about the supernatural. He would teach him stuff about it, but he wouldn't spend all his time doing that, he would be a father too. To both of his sons.

And when he found the thing, the demon, that took his wife and nearly his son away from him...he was going to make sure both Sam and Dean would never be harmed by it. He was not going to get them involved with it.

Placing Sam in his wheelchair, he took the liberty of pushing him into the room. Sam seemed shocked at first, that someone was actually pushing him but he relaxed at once. The poor kid's arms must be burning from constantly using them to move himself around.

It was only mid-day but all three of them were exhausted. Dean had slept in the hospital overnight before he woke up but he was weak and his body language betrayed his tiredness.

John sighed and slumped down on one of the beds, leaning against the headboard. "Come here you two." He patted the bed on either side of him.

Sam quickly wheeled over but Dean just stood there, looking confused. John didn't blame him, he hadn't shown the poor kid a lot of love even though it was obvious that John did love Dean. Sam lifted himself onto the bed with those strong arms of his and John helped position him so his immobile legs were straight ahead of him.

John looked back up at Dean. "Come on son."

At first it looked as though Dean wasn't going to move but then he gave in and sat on the other edge of the bed. With the three of them on there it was pretty cramped but John didn't mind. He flicked on the TV and wrapped both of his arms around his two sons tightly. No one was going to hurt his boys ever again.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean groaned as he awoke with one hell of a headache as well as his gunshot wound sending stabs of pain through his body. He glanced over at the clock and saw that is was five in the morning. Well, at least he managed to get five hours of sleep, even if it was a restless one. He felt someone shift next to him and for a second he froze before remembering that it was Sam. He still wasn't used to having to share the bed with someone, it would get a little crowded and Sam liked to squirm in his sleep which was a little annoying. But he didn't blame the kid. Sam was probably a restless sleeper as well, having to live in that awful place where no one gave him the time of day. Sam also liked to cuddle close to Dean, and that was kind of awkward because Dean was far from a touchy-feely person, but he wasn't going to complain. It actually was nice that Sam was all touchy-feely because it actually made Dean feel good. He couldn't remember the last time his father had hugged him or even given him a pat on the shoulder. But Sam would put a hand on his shoulder or something small and it just made Dean feel like he was wanted, that someone cared about him. And now that they found out that they were brothers Sam had now gone to hugging Dean.

It was really weird but Dean knew he better got used to it because the poor kid needed his love. Sam had been neglected like Dean but in an even worse way. He had absolutely no one. At least Dean had his father for company to talk to, even though he didn't really show any fatherly love towards him. It was obvious that Sam was desperate to have that family love, desperate for someone to care for him.. He had been all alone and scared and now that he found his family he needed them more than ever. Sam missed out on so much. On the little things that went with childhood. Dean had too, but at least he had those four years of normalcy. At least Dean did have a father that cared for him even though he didn't exactly know how to show it. Sam had no one to hold him, to play with him, no childhood at all. And now that he found his family he became extremely clingy in just this one day, especially to Dean. In a lot of ways Sam was like a little kid, because he missed that stage of his life earlier and now was the chance to have it, even if it was late in coming.

And Dean was going to make sure Sam got his childhood.

He realized that he wasn't going to get anymore sleep that night so he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position with a grunt. He wasn't smooth enough though because Sam's eyes flickered open when the bed shifted and he stared up at Dean.

"Hey, go back to sleep," Dean whispered to him, not wanting to wake his...no, scratch that,... _their_ father. "I can't sleep anymore, I'm going to take my meds and have a smoke."

Sam shook his head. "I can't get to sleep either. Keep waking up."

"Why's that?" Dean asked. He knew the reason why he couldn't get to sleep. He kept worrying about Sam's appointment and what the news would be. He wondered what was on Sam's mind.

Sam shrugged under the covers. "I don't know. I just keep thinking about everything that's happened. I'm so happy but I was so worried when you...when you got shot..." His voice quivered and Dean saw tears in his eyes. 

"Hey, it's alright. I'm right here. I'm fine." Dean grinned for extra emphasis. "I'm just sore right now, I'll take the pain meds and be fine."

Sam seemed to relax at that. "Just please promise me you won't ever do something like that again, I was so scared."

Dean toned down his grin so it was just a small smile and ruffled Sam's shaggy hair affectionately. "I promise." He looked over at his father's bed and knew that he had awoken and was now just pretending to sleep, listening to their conversation. Dean wondered how Sam would react when he found out what they did for a living, because there was no way they could keep that information from him.

Dean slowly eased himself up, he was used to being shot but it didn't mean it got any easier each time. Shuffling over to the table he opened the bottle of pain medication and swallowed two. He then grabbed his jacket and pocketed the meds in his pocket, making sure his cigarettes were in there as well. He turned around to tell Sam he'd be right back to find his brother already in his wheelchair right behind him.

"Geeze Sam, give me a heart attack why don't you?" Dean whispered with a chuckle. "How did you get up without me hearing?"

Sam smiled. "This wheelchair is a lot quieter and quicker." He grabbed his jacket and put it over the t-shirt he had slept in.

"Hey, it's cold out there. I don't want you getting sick, you're just getting over a fever." Dean frowned.

"And you just got shot, you shouldn't be out in the cold either. Anyway I want to come with you." Sam set up his puppy-dog eyes and geeze, his brother was stubborn.

"I don't want you to smell like smoke, you shouldn't have to be around it." The last thing Dean wanted was for his brother to suffer from second-hand smoke and have to smell like it too.

"I don't care," Sam huffed and folded his arms. He wanted to go out with Dean and wasn't going to give up. And Dean couldn't just ignore the pleading eyes. Sam was going to be a woman-swooner, that was for sure. And wasn’t that a very small amused snort coming from their father’s bed?

"Alright come on." Dean sighed and they headed outside. Dean plopped down on the bench outside their motel room and Sam pulled his wheelchair so it was right next to him on the side of the bench. Dean pulled a cigarette out and cupped his hand around the lighter in attempt to light it, the wind was howling and kept blowing the flame out. Sam let out a chuckle at Dean's distress and Dean shot him a glare back. He finally got the cigarette lit after the sixth try and took a deep drag, relishing as the smoke entered his lungs.

"Dean?" Sam asked suddenly. He sounded thoughtful and Dean wondered what was up.

"Yeah?" He blew out a stream of smoke, making sure to direct it away from Sam.

"When is my birthday?" Sam said and turned to face Dean, shivering a little. "They said my birthday was probably around April 27 to May 7th. I...I never knew when it actually was."

Dean felt his eyes start to water and he didn't know exactly why. Every year when his little brother's birthday passed he would get extremely depressed, remembering that his brother would be alive and one year older if it wasn't for him. But...Sam was here now. He was alive, and now he could finally celebrate his birthday with him.

"May 2nd," Dean said and blinked back his tears. He put the cigarette back in his mouth and mumbled with it between his lips: "your birthday is May 2nd."

"May 2nd..." Sam said in awe. "I...I never thought I'd know when my birthday was..." He grinned but then it faded when he looked back at Dean. "Dean...what's wrong?"

"Huh?" Dean muttered and took another drag to try to settle his nerves. "Nothing."

"Your hands are shaking," Sam pointed out. God, he was super-observant too!

"I'm just cold." Dean sighed and dropped his cigarette on the ground and pulled out another one, lighting this one quicker. He hoped Sam would believe him but the look he gave Dean told another story.

"I'm just thinking of the check-up," Dean told him honestly.

Sam scrunched his face up. "Dean, I don't want you going into there thinking something will happen."

"So you want me to think the alternative?" Dean asked, a little bit of disbelief entering his tone.

"Yes! It will make everything so much easier. I don't expect anything to happen, I've been paralyzed my whole life Dean. I'm not expecting some random miracle, it's just a check-up." This was only the second time Dean heard Sam raise his voice.

"Don't you want to be a cure there?" Dean asked quietly, staring down at the smoke coming from the end of his cigarette. He tapped the ash and watched it fall.

"To tell you the truth..." Sam lowered his voice. "No, not really. I'm perfectly fine. I have my family now and that's all that I've ever wanted. I just want to get to know you more Dean, and I want to get to know...D-Dad too." His voice stuttered over the foreign word. "If there was some miracle way I could walk again....it would take so long, so much therapy and everything. It's all we would be worrying about and I don't want that. I just want family time."

"Sam..." Dean started.

"No Dean. I...my legs are so wasted away and useless now. Do you know how long it would take for muscle to form...if it could even form at all? It would take so long if it was possible...and I doubt I'd ever be able to walk normally if there was some way I could be healed.... Just....Dean I really am fine, I don't want you getting your hopes up." Sam waited for Dean to respond.

"Sammy....if there was a way, I would do whatever there was to help you. No matter how long it took or what it was, or how much money. You deserve to be able to walk..."

"What do you mean? Dean, I don't really see myself missing out on anything. I've lived like this my whole life, to me it's not a big deal." Sam basically repeated what he told Dean the other day in the hospital. Dean was still beating himself up about being the one who had caused Sam's paralysis, and Sam couldn't take it. "Let's just see what happens when we go there."

"Okay." Dean nodded and finished his second cigarette. "Let's see when we get there."

"I am really happy Dean. I want you to know that and I want you to be happy too." Damn, there were the darn puppy dog eyes again!

"I am happy Sammy. I would spend everyday thinking about what life would be like if my brother didn't die...and then I find out that you never died at all. Of course I'm happy! God...this was the best thing that ever happened to me...finding you..." Wow, that was really mushy. But Dean needed to let Sam know that he was happy, he couldn't be happier...he was just...blaming himself...

Sam smiled. "This is the best thing that happened to me too. Just don't worry about this Dean, and don't blame yourself."

"I told you I'd try, but I can't guarantee you anything." Dean stood up. "Come on, let's head inside."

* * *

Dean and John were waiting out in the waiting room of the hospital while Sam went in for X-rays. They already had the doctor check his back and feel his spine, now they just had to wait for Sam to get out of taking the X-rays and see the pictures. After about half an hour Sam came wheeling himself out with the doctor right behind him.

"Sam's family? Can I see you in my office?" he asked. Dean didn't think the doctor sounded too cheerful. He swallowed nervously and got up on shaky legs. John put a hand on his back and Dean looked up at him with surprise. His father never offered a form of comfort like this unless Dean was seriously injured on a hunt.

"It'll be okay son, whatever happens, it'll be okay," he assured him and Dean simply nodded, too scared to speak.

John walked up to Sam and reached down to squeeze his shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile and Sam smiled back. The three of them made their way into the office where the doctor started hanging up pictures of X-rays. Dean couldn't tell if they were good news or bad, and he was getting nervous and needed a smoke. He hadn't had one the whole time they were at the hospital, but he didn't want to go outside to smoke when the doctor could come in with news on Sam. Luckily he had his Nicorette with him and he popped out a piece and chewed it gratefully. Wasn't as good as a cigarette but it would do for now.

"Now, you said that Sam had damaged his spine when he was six months old. Sam, so you know where you were taken when your spine was damaged? The name of the hospital?" the doctor whom Dean had forgotten his name asked.

"No," Sam answered and shook his head.

"I think Sam that since you were so young, your spinal damage might not have been seen right away since you couldn't walk then. I believe that if treatment was done to your spine right away, it may have helped you regain some mobility. But on the other hand, because you were so young at the time maybe your spine couldn't have been healed because you were still growing." The doctor looked at them, making sure they understood what he was talking about.

"Wait, so can my brother be healed now?" Dean asked with pleading eyes. "It...there's something that can work now right?"

The doctor looked sad, and Dean knew what was coming next. "I'm sorry, but examining Sam and by seeing these X-rays..." He pointed to the few X-rays hanging up. "There is no cure for spinal cord injuries, but we are making advancements all the time. But the thing is...the sooner we catch the injury the more likely we are to help it. It's been fourteen years since the damage was done."

"There's nothing at all you can do?? I mean, I thought Sam's spine wasn't even broken!" Dean shouted, he couldn't help the tears in his eyes.

"Sam's spine isn't broken, but it's damaged and it can cause paralysis just like a broken spine can. Still, in Sam's case the consequences are not as bad as if the spinal cord was completely severed. He can't move his legs, but he can control his bladder and bowel movements, which is a good thing. It makes life a lot easier. I know you were expecting more from this examination, but if Sam were to gain some more level of functioning, it would have happened by now. I'm sorry."

Dean felt his throat constricting and his breath catching in his throat. He had so badly wanted Sam to walk again...But then he felt Sam's hand on his own, with Sam smiling at him.

"It's okay," he whispered.

God, Sam was the one who just got told he couldn't walk again...he shouldn't be comforting Dean, Dean should be comforting him!

"Where is Sam's spine damaged exactly?" John spoke up, again surprising Dean in taking an interest.

"The section that is damaged is called the Lumbar Nerves, specifically the L-2 and L-3 bones." The doctor pointed to a section near the bottom of Sam's spine on the picture. "Sam's generally healthy other than his spinal injury, although I do see some old scars and he could gain some more weight."

John nodded and Dean knew that Sam was pretty bony, but he had been gaining weight ever since he started coming over and studying with Dean. The least Dean could do was keep his little brother healthy and safe.

"One thing I am worried about though is your muscle loss Sam. Have you ever had someone move your legs to exercise them?" the doctor asked

"No." Sam shook his head.

"Since your legs are not supporting your body and putting no strain on them you are losing both muscle mass and bone mass. This can lead to osteoporosis where your bones will get increasingly weak and break more easily."

"We can do something to help it though right?" Dean jumped in. "To stop the osteoporosis."

"Yes. You may want to stretch Sam's legs for him, making walking motions with them to get the muscles working and stronger. After a couple years Sam's legs might be strong enough where you could use crutches and braces."

"What do you mean? I can't move my legs." Sam was completely confused.

"I know, but you would use the crutches to swing your legs and propel them forward and the braces would keep your knees from buckling. It can be a hassle sometimes but many people that are paralyzed that try it like the feeling of freedom that it gives them. You'll still need your wheelchair always as it is much easier to use." 

Dean's ears perked up at this. Sam would never be able to walk but he could have some sense of independence, it was better than nothing. "I'll do whatever it takes to help him." He looked Sam in the eyes. He meant it, he was not failing his brother ever again.

* * *

"Think you're ready to get out of this town?" John asked, not wanting to bring up the hospital visit even though Sam didn't look upset at all.

"Really?! We're leaving?!" Sam asked with joy, grinning up at John from his wheelchair.

"Yep, if you want to that is," John told him.

"Hell yeah." Sam smiled and that was enough to get Dean to stop sulking over his guilt. He chuckled, he never heard Sam swear before and it was funny.

After stopping back at the motel to pack up their stuff, they were on the road. Dean and Sam in the Impala, John ahead of them in his truck. With Sam sitting beside him in the passenger seat....it just felt so darn right. For once Dean was happy to be moving around, glad for this lifestyle...because it brought Sam back to him.

Sam was staring out the window for the first hour, pointing things out to Dean and blabbing up a storm. They never brought up what happened in the hospital, even though Dean felt bad. Sam was fine with what happened, and nothing needed to be said. Dean knew Sam would brush off the topic if he brought it up anyway. He was going to spend all his time and energy trying to be the brother, the family that Sam told him he always wanted.

After the first hour passed however Sam had fallen asleep, his head falling to rest on the windowpane. Dean smiled brightly at the sight.

Fifteen minutes later Sam started shifting and moaning, Dean threw the cigarette he was smoking out the window and when he went to grab his shoulder to steady him Sam lashed out and let out a terrible scream.

"Sammy?! What's wrong?? Sammy!" Dean screamed and pulled the car over quickly. He saw his father pulling over as well. Dean reached out to shake Sam again, this time not pulling away when Sam struck out. It paid off though as Sam's eyes snapped open.

"No...no! Don't let him get me! He's going to hurt me!!" Sam cried, practically throwing himself into Dean's arms.

"Who Sammy? Who's going to get you??" Dean asked in a voice stronger than he felt as their father hurried over, worried.

"The man with the yellow eyes."


	9. Chapter 9

At Dean and John's shocked and quite horrified looking faces Sam was confused. Why did they seem so upset over this dream he had?? Sure, the dream felt scary realistic like it was predicting something to come...all of his dreams that involved deaths were. But Dean and John didn't know about that, so how come they were so worried?

"This man that you saw Sammy, he had yellow eyes?" John asked him in a business like tone. Sam wondered what that was about.

"Yeah," he nodded in a small voice, looking back between his brother and his father, trying to make sense of what was going on. "But it was just a bad dream, don't worry about it. I'm okay now."

"What part of his eyes were yellow?" John went on as if he never heard Sam. "His whole eyes, the pupil, the iris?"

"His irises," Sam told him. He got even more confused by the minute. "Like where the color should be, his were a sick yellow color."

John shared a look at Dean like he was telling him something. Dean's face paled.

"What did he do in your dream Sammy?" Dean asked him now. His voice wasn't stern like John's, but it still held importance to it. He spoke quieter, more gentle, still he was visibly scared.

"He...he had me....took me away....but I was older in my dream. I was taller and I looked older, like twenty something. It was like I was watching all this happen, it wasn't a view from my body but like a view from overhead. He held his hand out at me and it was like some kind of power was coming out of him. I was squirming and I could tell I was in pain. And...and then I started bleeding and screaming and the next thing I knew....my body wasn't moving....I...I was d-dead." Sam swallowed. The way John was looking at him was making saying this a lot harder than he thought. It was making it seem scarier too.

"Have you ever dreamt of him before?" John asked another question. Sam felt like he was under an interrogation.

"Ease up on him Dad," Dean said and John glared at him.

"This is important Dean! This sounds like the thing that killed your mother!" John raised his voice at Dean and then looked back at Sam.

"Huh? What? He killed our mom? But this is just a dream..." Sam was completely lost.

"We will explain it later Sammy," Dean told him because it was obvious that John wasn't going to. This was a side of John Sam hadn't known existed but maybe now he got why Dean was the way he was with the smoking and feeling alone. John was kind of scary like this.

"We need to know if you've dreamt of this man before," John urged. 

"Yeah...it started happening when I was twelve. I...I would have dreams of this man....killing people. But it wouldn't be the same man...he'd look different and he had a different body but the same yellow eyes. For some reason I knew it was the same person though...but it's the first time that I was in one of these dreams. They feel so real it's scary....almost as if it's really going on. And I have dreams were people are dying too that don't involve this man. All these dreams that have people dying in them seem real, not like my other dreams. And I'm always watching what's happening from above...not being able to stop it." Sam sighed. Although it was difficult to describe his scary dreams, it felt good to explain them to someone. To let this out and tell someone else. He had no clue why John and Dean were so worried about them, but he was sure that at least Dean would explain their odd behavior to him later.

"Hey, it's alright Sammy. We're going to figure this out. We're going to get him." Dean put an arm around him with care.

"What do you mean Dean? Figure what out? He's not real, isn't he?" Sam looked into Dean's eyes, searching for answers.

"Follow me Dean. We're stopping at the nearest motel," John decided, ignoring Sam's questions before going back to his truck.

Dean slipped onto the driver's seat. "It's okay, Sam. He's just scared. We've been looking for this guy for a real long time." He paused for a short moment. "Sammy, he is real." 

"But Dean, he had powers and stuff...and those eyes....he..it's like he wasn't even human!"

"That's because he's not," Dean answered and started following John's truck.

* * *

"Sammy, can you remember what any of the people looked like that died in your dreams because of the yellow eyed man?" John asked him, continuing his interrogation once they were in the motel room. They had stopped at the first motel they spotted and John had instantly gone to questioning Sam again. In his hand was a small notebook with lots of pages and notes in it.

"Yeah, some of them I can," Sam said meekly from where he was sitting on one of the beds. If it wasn't for Dean sitting next to him and keeping a hand on his back Sam would have been too scared right now to answer. John was freaking him out but he knew he wouldn't hurt him because Dean wouldn't be letting this go on if he was.

"Are they these people?" John asked and held out his notebook. On the page was pictures and notes of certain people....people that were dead. Just by looking at them was as if the dreams had just happened. He could almost see their faces as the yellow eyed man killed them....screaming in horror....

"Dad! Quit it! You're scaring him!" Dean yelled at their father and Sam just noticed that he was shaking. Dean pulled him closer for comfort.

"I'm not trying to scare him, I'm just trying to find out if these are the people he saw!" John shot back at Dean.

"T-they are," Sam interrupted the argument. "How...how do you know about them? Why am I dreaming about them?? W-what's going on??" He was frightened to death right now. Why did John have pictures of the people that had died in Sam's dreams? The only reason he could think was that he must have had the dreams as well.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean assured him for about the 100th time. "We're going to explain it all to you. What do you want to know first?"

Sam relaxed a bit. Whatever he was about to hear, it would be okay. As long as Dean was here with him it would be okay.

"How...how is he not human? The guy with yellow eyes?" he asked quietly.

"He's a demon," John answered and Sam raised his eyes in shock. What the hell...

"Dad, let me explain," Dean said and Sam turned to face his brother, wanting to know what the heck was going on.

"Sammy....Dad is...you know how I said he was a hunter?" Dean asked him and Sam nodded. "Well...he is, but he doesn't hunt animals."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Then what does he hunt?"

"He hunts...supernatural creatures. Like demons, vampires, spirits...stuff like that. They're all real Sammy. I know this sounds crazy but it's true. This is why we move around so much, it's what we do for a living." Dean said and looked at Sam pleadingly, like he wanted him to believe him so bad. 

Sam didn't even know what to think. This was insane....vampires, ghosts...demons?! But then what was the thing he saw in his dreams? It had killed people, actual people had died in real life just like they died in his dreams! And the thing had different bodies. No human could do that.

Sam looked back up into Dean's eyes and could see nothing but truthfulness there. Dean wasn't lying to him, he was dead serious. Sam just couldn't make himself think that Dean would lie to him, especially about something like this. Dean was the most trustworthy person he knew, his best friend and his big brother. And he knew Dean wasn't crazy at all. If Dean was telling him this....it had to be true.

But really, what the hell?!

"These things are all real?" he asked with a small voice.

"Yeah, they are." John offered him a glass with juice that he had fetched. He seemed to lose a bit of that stern tone. "After we lost your mother to the demon, I've been trying to find it and kill it, as well as any other supernatural creature we find."

"We read about cases that sound suspicious", Dean went on. "we find out if they have to do with the supernatural or not. We save people and hunt things...the family business." "How...how did our mom die? From the yellow eyed man...he's a demon?" Sam questioned, trying to wrap his mind around all of this.

"When you were just six months old the demon got into our house. When I came to check on you I found him over your crib. I don't know what he was going to do but then...." John's voice trailed off for a moment before he continued. "Your mother was on the ceiling. Pinned to the ceiling with her stomach slashed....and then the ceiling burst into flames around her."

Sam was shocked still. That's what he was seeing! He was seeing some women die pinned to the ceiling with blood dripping from their stomach and then they caught on fire!

"That's what I was seeing in my dreams! Some of them I had of women dying on the ceiling in that exact way! And they all had babies. Not all of the people died that way but some of them did! Why am I having these dreams?" He couldn't believe it. What he had been seeing was real and had happened to his own mother. Demons were real as well as a whole bunch of other things! Shocked to the bone he closed his eyes, shuddering with fear.

"I don't know why you are having these dreams." John sat down beside him on the bed and wrapped his arm around him, forcing Dean to let go. His voice was gentle, when he continued. "They seem to be visions of what could or might happen. It must be something related to the demon. Did you see the demon do anything to the babies?"

"N..no...my dreams just start out as the women burst into flames." Sam shivered "If...if my dreams are visions...does that mean I'm going to die?" He swallowed.

"You're not going to die Sammy, " Dean said with grim determination. "We're going to make sure of that. We're gonna get him."

And Sam believed him.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent with Dean and John talking to Sam, explaining supernatural creatures to him and how they fought them. They taught him the basics of what to do to protect himself. Put salt around the doors, devil's traps, holy water....and they taught him all they knew about the demon. How demons were souls from Hell that could inhabit other bodies, how they had dangerous powers. At the end of the day Sam felt his brain was about to burst.

John had left to get something to eat and Sam was sitting with Dean outside again. It felt as if this would be their constant talking place. Right outside the motel door with Dean smoking. But this time it was Dean that started conversation.

"I'm surprised you didn't freak out or want to leave Sammy. That you actually believed us," Dean blew out a stream of smoke.

"It's still so surreal to me and it will probably stay that way until I actually see one of these things. But I know you wouldn't lie to me. And the whole story makes sense. The fire and my dreams. Is that why you said you've faced things much scarier than my foster brothers?" 

Dean smiled a little with his cigarette between his lips. "Yeah." He took a drag, closed his eyes and blew the smoke out slowly. "You gotta be tough and get trained to be a hunter. Those two were nothing."

"Oh," Sam whispered and couldn't help but sound dejected. "I guess I'm just getting in the way then. How am I going to live with you guys if you hunt these things and I'm not able to?"

Dean spun around to face Sam quickly, his face held anger. "Don't you ever say that. Don't you ever think that you're getting in the way Sammy!"

Sam stared at Dean. "But I can't help you guys hunt these things."

"Dad doesn't let me go on hunts most of the time. I do research mostly and talk to people to find out information. You can do that too. Hey, you'll be much faster at research since I take a freakin' lifetime to read a single page!" Dean brought the cigarette back up to his mouth.

"You're getting better." Sam ignored Dean's snort. "Really, you are. I'm still going to help you too."

"Speaking of helping, I gotta help you get muscle back into your legs. We'll start right ahead." Dean stood up and put his cigarette out. "C'mon let's go back inside. It's freezing out here anyway."

They went back inside and Dean laid a blanket down from the bed onto the floor.

"That doc said it be best to do this on a solid flat surface." Dean picked up Sam by his armpits before setting him down on the blanket.

"You don't have to do this ya' know?" Sam told Dean as he laid down on the floor.

"I know but I want to. Plus you're helping me with my reading so this is the least I can do." Dean grabbed Sam's left leg first and Sam saw him cringe at how thin and emaciated it looked. He quickly regained his composure though. "Don't worry, we'll get your legs fit in no time." He smiled encouragingly.

Sam knew it would actually take years, but just the fact that Dean was helping him, and his positive attitude towards this meant millions to Sam. He watched as Dean stretched his leg back and forth, bending it at the knee just like the doctor said.

"And once they get strong enough, we'll get a set of portable parallel bars for you to practice on." Dean was getting excited when he told Sam what he planned for the future.

"That would be nice." Sam was sceptical about the bars, but it was futile to tell Dean about that now. His legs would need a long time to get back into shape anyway.

About 45 minutes later when Dean was working on Sam's right leg Sam remembered John and wondered where he was.

"Where's dad? Shouldn't he be back by now?" he asked, remembering how John said he'd be back in a bit when he went out to get food.

"Oh." Dean shrugged. "He's probably out finding information on a hunt. He'll come back with the food though."

"I think it's kinda exciting," Sam told his brother randomly.

"What's exciting?"

"The whole hunting thing. How there's more out there than people think. I don't know I just think that this lifestyle would be pretty interesting, better than the normal lifestyle. And surely better than what I had before." He watched Dean's facial expression closely.

"I don't know." Dean sighed. "I never liked it too much. But I think that was because I had no one to talk to. Now that I have my brother back I think it would be better. I guess we'd make a great team." He smiled.

"I think we would too." Sam grinned. "You think you can teach me some stuff? Maybe after I practice a lot I could come with you guys?"

Dean froze. "Saaamm..."

"I'm not saying any time soon," Sam hurried to explain himself. "I'm just saying after a lot of practice on what to do, I could come with you guys. I could just watch, but in case something happened I would know what to do." He couldn't help but feel a bit excited.

"I don't want you getting hurt," Dean objected.

"Dean, I can probably move as good in my wheelchair as a normal person could walking! I just want to come eventually. Nothing big, like the weakest thing possible. I just really want to be a part of this too." Sam made his sad eyes at Dean which his brother referred to as 'the puppy dog eyes'. He knew Dean would give in....any second now....

"Fine. But when you do, which won't be anytime soon, I'm going to be right next to you so nothing will happen."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything different."

* * *

John came back a couple hours later. Dean had finished exercising and massaging Sam's muscles, had five cigarettes, and gone through some of John's journal with Sam by the time he got back.

"I'm back," John said as he walked through the door, earning a hush from Dean.

"Sam's sleeping," he whispered. His father tossed him a carton of Chinese and sat on the opposite bed.

"Should I wake him to eat?" John asked.

"Nah, he seemed pretty tired. Save him some though, he told me he loves Chinese." Dean saw his father eyeing the open journal in his lap. "I was going through it with Sam. Actually he was reading it, I was having too much trouble," he admitted and looked down.

"How's that reading going for you? Any better?" John asked and Dean sighed. His father didn't know anything of what was going on with him, didn't offer to help him read ever. Just like he didn't seem interested in helping Sam's legs.

"Sammy's helping me," was all he said. Hoping his father would get the point, he most likely wouldn't.

Something did cross John's face but Dean didn't recognize what it was. "I found a hunt in Minnesota. We'll head up there tomorrow and get you boys enrolled in a school."

Dean wanted to tell John so many things, he wanted to yell at him for not trying hard enough to be a better father. Hell, John couldn't even manage to bring dinner before Sam went to sleep.

"Alright," was all he said.


	10. Chapter 10

A few days later Sam and Dean were at their first day of school. Dean had hatched up a plan the day before on how to make the staff let them have as many classes together as they possibly could.

"Tell them what a hard time reading I have and how you need help carrying your stuff and getting to class, even though I know you don't. Then I'll try to charm the women and you use those puppy dog eyes on 'em. They'll fall for it in no time." He had smirked.

And they did. Sam had three classes with Dean and lunch as well. They had to take some different classes though since they were in different grades. Dean had told Sam before how he had failed twice, making him only a Junior and Sam had been able to skip being a Freshman and was officially a Sophomore. They were only one grade apart.

"Bet you feel embarrassed to have a brother four years older than you only be one grade ahead. I shouldn't even be in high school right now," Dean mumbled to him as they went into the first hour they had together which was an algebra class again.

Sam huffed. "Yeah right. The last thing I would feel is embarrassed towards you."

Surprisingly to Sam the teacher already had a desk table out for him with a space for his wheelchair as well as another chair, which he could only guess was for Dean.

"Class these are our new students, Sam and Dean Winchester," a bright cheery voice said from behind the brothers, it sounded out of place in the dull lifeless classroom. It was the voice of the young teacher, Mrs. Millen. Sam smiled when he heard the last name used with his name. Sam Winchester. It just felt so right. He was a Winchester now, he belonged to a family!

The kids were staring at them of course, especially at Sam in his wheelchair. But when it would've bugged Sam before, it didn't now because he wasn't alone anymore. Maybe Dean could keep these people from looking down on him right away. Even if everyone still made fun of him...that would be okay because he had his big brother there for him.

"What happened to you?" a girl shouted out, looking at Sam and he blushed, slightly embarrassed. He felt Dean tense next to him.

"That's none of your business," Dean growled and his face turned red.

"Becky that's enough. I will not stand you being rude. If you want to ask Sam a question, then ask him personally and not in front of everyone in class." Mrs. Millen's voice held no room for argument.

"It's fine," Sam sighed, he might as well let everyone know right now. "I've been like this my whole life, I had an accident when I was a baby that paralyzed me from the waist down." The whole class went quiet. Sam wheeled himself behind the table and Dean plopped down next to him.

"You didn't have to tell them anything ya' know," he whispered.

"Yeah, I know." Sam nodded. "It was just easier to get it out of the way so everyone knows."

They took notes that period but luckily it was something they had already learned at the other school so Sam only took a couple notes. Dean wasn't taking any notes since he just used Sam's notes as well. But Sam saw that Dean was listening intently to what the teacher was saying, he was trying so hard.

At the end of the class Sam told Dean he was going to give the teacher a note explaining what they had already learned at their old school when in truth the note he was giving the teacher was really about Dean. He explained Dean's dyslexia in the letter and how Dean didn't like to be in the spotlight and needed Sam's help with reading and taking notes. He also asked the teachers if there was anything they could use to help Dean to please do it. 

* * *

Sam actually had a pretty good day at school and it seemed like Dean had too. He was humming along to the classic rock music he always played in the Impala on the way back from school. They had rented an apartment this time and not a motel because John said there were a few hunts around this area. When they arrived at their ground floor apartment Sam was shocked to see that John's truck was in the parking lot. John was _never_ home when they got back from school. Sam looked over at Dean who had his mouth open slightly, cigarette balancing dangerously on his bottom lip.

"Dean?" Sam spoke up which broke his brother's trance as he clamped his lips shut and shook his head.

"Sorry, 'm jus' surprised," Dean mumbled between his cigarette and got out of the car into the harsh winter weather. He helped get Sam out and into his wheelchair and they slowly made their way to the apartment, both wondering why their father was home.

* * *

John had been so caught up in learning about Sammy's visions and trying to figure out what they meant that he had absolutely forgotten about both his sons' needs. He had been oblivious to the fact that he was neglecting them until he walked in the apartment the day before to find Dean exercising Sammy's legs for him. The doctor had told him Sam would need someone to do that for him and John had completely forgot.

John had already broken his promise to himself that he would try to be a better father, he was failing horribly at it. He had just gotten his baby boy back and was too busy worrying about his visions to give him the time of day. Thinking logically now John realized that it didn't matter much how the visions were happening. He just had to be there to help Sammy when he had a vision and just simply be a father to him!

It already seemed that Dean had taken over the role of helping Sammy with his legs and wasn't going to give it up so John would just need to do something else to bond with his son. He knew Sam seemed excited about hunting so today he was going to take him to the field out back behind the apartments and practice shooting with a BB gun. While in his mind he never expected Sam to actually hunt but at least this would be a way he could protect himself from the evil out there.

But there was also the matter of Dean as well. His poor boy had been so neglected and ignored and was still suffering with his dyslexia. John hadn't done a single thing to help Dean with his reading struggles but that was about to change. He loved his boy and was going to prove it, he loved _both_ his boys.

Sam and Dean came in and John was glad to see that they both looked relatively happy. They did seem a little confused but John knew that was because of him being home. He hoped he could change that and be home more often for his boys.

"Hey Sammy, how about I take you back to the field so we can practice shooting a bit if you want to know how to protect yourself." John's heart warmed when he saw his baby boy's face light up, showing his dimples.

"Yeah okay." Sam nodded quickly and put his knit hat and leather gloves back on that he had just taken off. John knew it was pretty darn cold outside but Sam was bundled up good.

"Dean you think you can make dinner?" John asked and watched Dean's face fall at the thought of not being able to go out with his dad and brother. He knew Dean understood that he wanted some bonding time with just Sam but he also knew that Dean felt rejected. Dean always felt rejected, unwanted.

"Hey and then when we come back in why don't you show me how much better you're reading?" he suggested, wanting to show Dean that he cared about him just as much.

Dean paled a little bit but let a shaky smile appear on his face. "Sure Dad," he said and went into the kitchen.

John made his way outside with Sam but once they got into the snowy grass Sam started having trouble navigating his wheelchair. Noticing this, John quickly hurried to get behind Sam and push his son the rest of the way.

"Thanks." Sam flushed. John knew his son was still a little nervous around him and shy. He wanted to change that today, at least just a little.

"It's no problem Sam. You don't have to thank me for something like this. I'm your father, I should do it," he told him seriously.

Once they got into a good spot on the field John set up the targets he'd brought with him in his bag and pulled out the two BB guns. He showed Sam how to aim and keep a sturdy grip on the weapon even though it was a little difficult because Sam was in a wheelchair.

But Sam was able to find a solution to a comfortable way to hold his gun. John taught him how to fire, shooting his own gun in example.

Sam squinted his eyes to aim and fired, his shot going about a couple inches to the right of the target. Sam frowned.

"Hey, that's great for your first shot Sammy," John comforted him. "I don't think anyone who's never held a gun before can hit the target on their first shot. You weren't that far away at all." Sam was still pouting. "But I want to hit it!" He glared at the target and went to aim again.

John smiled at his eagerness. "Wait Sammy, move your left hand back on the gun a little bit....there you go, that should give you better aim. Now when you're looking at the target, aim a little bit over because your view is a little higher than the barrel of the gun." Sam did as he was told and this time he hit the target. Barely...but he did it.

"Great job kiddo." John smiled and patted him on the back. Sam beamed brightly and it amazed John how the simplest of things could make this kid so darn happy.

They practiced for about an hour more. Sam wasn't hitting anywhere near the bullseye but he was making quick progress. John was impressed. This kid could probably do almost anything if he put his mind to it.

John smiled as he packed up Sam's gun. It had been fun getting to spend time alone with his son for the first time and get to know him. He had started opening up to John more and was really quite the chatterbox.

"You're such a fast learner Sammy," he complimented him. "Just like your mother. "Sam looked at him curiously. "What was Mom like?" he asked, clearly not aware that Mary was a soft topic around here. But his son deserved to know about his mother.

John let out a sad sigh. "Her name was Mary. She had long blonde wavy hair. Green eyes like Dean's and a smile like yours. Now that I think about it, you do look a lot like her."

"I do?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I don't know why I didn't notice it before. When you were an infant she would go into your room every night and read you and Dean a story. She's the one that named you. Sam was your grandfather's name." He let out a laugh. "Although the nickname Sammy was all Dean's idea. He didn't call you anything but that. He always said how much he loved his new baby brother, that he always wanted one...he never wanted you out of his sight."

That got a chuckle out of Sam. "He hasn't changed much then has he?"

John smiled. "No. He hasn't. Why don't you get inside now? I'm going to get some more practice. After I help your brother a bit with his reading I'll tell you two about the hunt I'm on so you can do some research on it."

"Okay Dad." Sam grinned and John felt his heart tighten at hearing his son call him 'Dad' for the very first time.

* * *

Sam happily managed to wheel himself through the old path he'd made in the snow to the apartment. He opened the sliding door and quickly got inside the kitchen into the warmth. He grabbed a slice of pizza Dean must have gotten and started eating it. However Sam stopped when he heard Dean talking.

"The...r-rules....for...ba...basic...g...gram....grammar...." Sam heard Dean trying to read from their section in the English Grammar book. "Oh who the fuck do I think I'm kidding?!" Dean laughed heartlessly.

Sam craned his head to look into the other room and saw his big brother with the book spread out in front of him on the bed. His head was in his hands and a cigarette was in his mouth.

"Fuckin' moron...that's what you are....can't even read a simple paragraph...always been so useless....should jus' drop out..." Dean was barely mumbling, the cigarette in his mouth hardly moving. He sounded so lifeless and it scared Sam shitless to hear his brother like that.

"Worthless piece of shit....jus' let everyone down...no wonder Dad hates me....useless retarded son...never can do anything right, let alone read...." Dean was still mumbling, lost in his own world. He lifted his head up a bit to take a long drag of his cigarette and Sam saw tears running down his face.

Sam had been so worried about Dean and too intent on listening to what he was saying that he didn't notice that John had also come in the apartment. He had decided not to practice as it was getting too dark and was standing behind Sam, also looking into the other room at his oldest son.

John had heard it all.


	11. Chapter 11

John couldn't believe the words he just heard leave his eldest son's mouth. He had known that Dean thought down on himself sometimes but he never thought it was this bad. He knew Dean had trouble reading but again he never knew Dean had this much trouble. Dean thought he was useless because he couldn't read well, he thought that John hated him. How could his son think that?

But then, looking back John knew that Dean had some very good reasons to think the way he did. John hadn't been there for him at all. He had never been there to listen to his son's problems or to help him out with schoolwork. He had only helped him in informing him about the supernatural and about the thing, the demon that had killed Mary. John had been to busy trying to get Dean to want revenge as well and hadn't taken an interest in his son's life.

When he caught Dean smoking John had flipped out and started screaming at him instead of sitting him down and talking to try to find out why Dean had started smoking. John had looked at Dean with disgust every time he brought a cigarette up to his mouth instead of trying to understand and help him. He was lucky that Dean wasn't using and dependent on any drugs with the way he had treated him.

Dean had been lonely, he realized that now and how that had changed. But it had changed not because of him but because of Sam. Sam did something to Dean that John had shamefully never been able to do. He'd been Dean's friend, he'd listened to Dean and never judged him on not being able to read well or on his smoking. Sam had looked past that and liked Dean for who he really was. Sam had helped Dean with his dyslexia before he knew Dean was his brother. Sam had been there for Dean before he knew they were family whereas John was always Dean's father but had never taken interest.

When Sam had came into Dean's life he had changed. John had seen Dean smiling for no reason. Dean had been looking forward to going to school He had talked about Sam and really tried studying and reading, giving it his entire effort. For the first time in Dean's life he had been truly happy and relaxed. It showed John just how much he had failed upon realizing just how happy Dean could be.

But even with Sam Dean was still suffering with his self-hatred. Dean needed to know that John cared. John knew he'd never have the bond with Dean that his sons already had but he needed to be a better father. To both of them. Dean had been pushed to the wayside for far too long in replace of revenge and John had to fix that somehow. And quick.

Sam was looking up at him from his wheelchair with a gaze much too intense for a young boy his age, begging him to do something about Dean. John hadn't even done his best in helping his youngest either. He had just found his baby boy but it was Dean who had taken the responsibility over him. Dean was the one that massaged and exercised his brother's legs. He had been the one to set up an appointment for a new wheelchair. Dean was the one that helped Sam get in and out of a car and helped him if he had trouble with anything. It was all Dean.

If it weren't for Dean Sam wouldn't be here right now. Dean had been the one to befriend Sam, looking past his disability and again seeing the person inside. John doubted he would have been able to do that. If he had seen a boy in a wheelchair being picked on he would've simply helped him and been on his way. But Dean had made sure he was okay, had talked to him and gotten to know him. It was Dean that brought his youngest back and if it weren't for Dean's concern and care for Sam his baby boy would have frozen to death.

Dean had given him the opportunity to once again try to be a better father by finding Sam and so far John was failing miserably. The only thoughtful thing John had done for Sam was request a handicapped accessible motel and now apartment. He hadn't even gotten to know his boy! And with Dean....had John even done anything thoughtful for his oldest? Did he even really know Dean at all as well?

Well he was going to change this for good starting now. He had his sons, both of his sons with him and he was not going to take them for granted ever again.

John looked down at Sam and nodded, trying to tell him that he was going to help Dean. Before he would've just ran away and acted like he never heard what Dean said but now he knew he couldn't do that. He knew this wasn't going to be some mushy-gushy thing. Dean wouldn't allow it and John was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to do it. They were not going to let all of their feelings out in one big conversation but John was going to show his son how much he loved him. He wasn't going to embarrass Dean and demand that he explained his feelings, he was just going to be there for him.

He took a deep breath and walked right into the living room where Dean was sitting and knelt down right in front of his oldest. Dean jumped in surprise and his cigarette almost fell out of his mouth as he did so. Dean stared at John for a moment before turning a bright red and wiping angrily at his tears and ducking his head down. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and let out a shaky breath of smoke.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to smoke in here, I'm sorry." Dean quickly put out his half smoked cigarette. John noticed that there were two other butts already in the ashtray. But he held back his anger at that, it wasn't important right now.

So he did the one thing that John Winchester never did, the only thing that could make his son realize that he cared. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around his oldest. Dean gasped and went stock still in the foreign hold, having no clue as what to do.

"It's okay Dean. That doesn't matter right now. I don't care about the smoke," John told his son gently, unsure of what to do as well. He wasn't the hugging type of person at all and it felt awkward but Dean needed this. He needed to know he was loved by not only his brother but his father as well.

"I...me an' Sammy. We came up with...I'm going to watch how much I smoke, I'm going to stick with a pack a day. Maybe it will go lower. I..."

John pulled back a bit. "Dean, that's good. But it's okay. I'm sorry for getting so upset at you for smoking but I was just worried. I never should have acted that way towards you though."

"No, no...I was smoking and you got mad. It's no big deal." John already saw that Dean's mask was back up.

"Dean, it's okay. Forget about the smoking. It doesn't make you a bad person." John saw the surprise in his son's face. He was telling his son that he cared with simple sayings and Dean got the message and seemed shocked. He had just learned that John wasn't going to judge him on his smoking.

John patted his son on the back and moved so he was sitting right next to him. "I'll help you with that." He pointed to the open English book.

"No. It's okay." Dean snatched the book into his hands and away from John.

John sighed. "I know Sammy's probably much better in helping you than I would be, but I want you to know I'm here if you need help. What do you have trouble with?"

Dean was eying his father warily but seemed to relax a bit. "Words look jumbled and mixed up sometimes. Sometimes I read them in the wrong order or see the words wrong." He blushed.

"Hey, that's alright. You'll get better with practice. You probably are already getting better."

"No I'm not." Dean shook his head stubbornly.

"Yes you are Dean," Sam said suddenly as he wheeled his way into the room to join in on the conversation he'd been listening to. "You're getting better."

"Not good enough," Dean grumbled, still looking down.

"It's not going to happen right away Dean," Sam told his big brother with honesty. "It takes time, You're trying really hard and you're doing better. I'm proud of you." Again, Sam was the one that could get through Dean's head and make him feel better. Sam had no hesitation in his voice when he said he was proud of Dean, why couldn't John just come out and say that? But he was going to work on that.

"I want you to know I'm here for you Dean, for anything you'd want to tell me." John cursed himself for not being able to praise Dean. What was so wrong with praising his son? Dean desperately needed to be praised by his father. "You're a good kid Dean." John shocked himself and he didn't know why. It was true. Dean was a good kid. While he was stubborn and tough he was also kind, caring and never treated anyone with disrespect, never judged anyone and always worked hard.

Dean looked up at John with hopeful eyes and didn't say anything. But he didn't need to, his eyes said everything, they were asking his father if what he said was true.

John nodded and repeated himself. "You're a good kid." He smiled at both of his boys. "You both are. Now why don't you read some for me Dean? Take your time, don't rush."

Dean looked back and forth between Sam and John. He bit his lip and looked like he was about to protest before he nodded. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll try."

* * *

During the next week in school Dean had received several text books for some of his classes that had larger print writing. And while he was reluctant to accept them, he knew it was for the best. Upon using them he realized that they did help him a good deal and he couldn't help but think Sam might have helped push the teachers into getting these books for him. Sam was doing so much for him, Dean wanted to do something for Sam too. And he had the perfect idea.

Sam was fourteen and would be fifteen in May. Legally, he could take driver's training but in the hunter's world he could have learned driving years ago. Plus, Sam could easily pass for a sixteen year old.

Sam couldn't drive a normal car with foot brakes and accelerators...but that didn't mean he couldn't drive at all. At one of the many schools Dean had been at there had been a student that had been paralyzed as well and he had used hand breaks and accelerators to drive his car. Dean thought that was really neat and would be perfect for Sammy. But he'd have to let his Dad know because it was bound to cost a lot and plus he would have trouble reading the manuals and such. John had been more involved with both him and Sam the last couple of days so hopefully John would listen.

John was out researching right now so he waited as he and Sam also researched in bed on a laptop until he came back. The laptop was a lot slower than the computers in the library but it'd have to do. The apartment had only come with two bedrooms and two queen beds in each so Sam and Dean were sharing again. Dean had told Sam what to look up and Sam read it to him. Then Dean explained what creature it probably was, why it was probably killing and what to use to kill it. Sam jotted down notes on the laptop for John to see when he came home.

"Hey Dean," Sam said thoughtfully as he closed the laptop after they were done researching.

"Yeah?" Dean looked up.

"Uhh well one of my teachers told me something about there being a basketball league for kids in wheelchairs a couple towns over and I think I'd like that. They told me there's a spot available for assistant coach and I wanted to know if you wanted it? So we could be together?"

Dean smiled. He was proud that his little brother wanted to get involved in something. So far their new school was treating them okay but he knew that Sam had wanted to do things that kids like doing. He thought this would be really good for Sam and a good chance for him to make friends. And hey, if he helped out he'd get paid and he was going to need money to pay for Sam's needs. "Yeah, I'd really like to help out."

"Thanks." Sam grinned and Dean was so happy that he was able to make Sam smile so much. The kid hadn't had an easy life before this and he wanted to make Sam's life as great as possible.

"No need to thank me Sammy." Dean smiled back and punched Sam in the shoulder. "Now get to sleep."

* * *

John was sitting on the bench outside the motel room and tried to sort out his thoughts. This case seemed really tough to crack. He knew they dealt with at least one vampire, but he didn't know where he was hiding. He was looking for clues and doing research, but it was yet to no avail. Maybe it was because he was distracted and couldn't concentrate on the hunt like before. He had so much to think about. He couldn't still believe his luck that he'd found his lost son alive after he was thinking him dead for more than fourteen years. 

He knew he still had a long way to go to be as comfortable around Sam as Dean was. He didn't mind the wheelchair, but he was old-school and felt uncomfortable around certain issues. Dean had no problems asking Sam about bathroom issues because he wondered if Sam was able to use the bathroom just as that. John had felt a bit uneasy when the doctor had told them about Sam's abilities and hadn't asked further. But remembering the fact that Sam's parents never cared to adjust the bathroom to Sam's needs, Dean had pried on the issue. Eventually Sam had admitted that his parents had forced him to use a urinal with a collection bag so they didn't have to help him onto the toilet so often. Later on they expected Sam to help himself and never even got to know that he got rid of the hated urinals when he found out he didn't exactly need them. It had been a hassle for him every time he had to use the bathroom, but it was way better than using a urinal. He just had tried to use the school's accessible bathroom as much as possible.

John huffed. If he had known about that before they left that town he would have stopped by to talk with Sam's foster parents about the way they had treated his son.

He looked up when the door opened and Dean sat down beside him.

"Hey son." John looked at him expectantly. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"I had to ask you something" Dean replied, fidgeting a bit.

"What is it kiddo?" John encouraged Dean. He wanted his son to be able to open up to him.

"Uh...I was thinking we could find some hand brakes and accelerators we could put in the Impala. So Sammy could learn to drive. But I'd need help and I don't know where to get them and..."

John cut him off. "Dean. I think it's a great idea for your brother. We'll figure out a way to get them installed." John smiled and patted Dean's back. He really wanted things to be as normal for Sam as they could possibly be with him in a wheelchair.

Dean stared at him in awe. "You'll really help me get that for him?" John's heart stung at how surprised Dean was at his acceptance. Was he really that bad as a father?

"Of course I will Dean. We'll start looking things up on it first thing tomorrow."


	12. Chapter 12

It was a week later and Sam was happy. He had gotten signed up for the basketball team starting next week and Dean had gotten the job as the coach. Sam was understanding more and more about the supernatural and getting better at researching. John was on his second hunt now around the area and this one was a vampire he was currently hunting down. An actual vampire. Sam couldn't help but shudder a bit at the thought. He knew how to kill a vampire. Chop off its head. None of that garlic and sun stuff would kill them. But dead man's blood hurt them a good deal. Sam felt like he was contributing by researching with Dean and telling John what he found but he would still love to go on a hunt. But that would never happen under his Dad's and Dean's watch, he knew that for sure.

Right now Dean was massaging his lifeless legs after having already stretched and exercised them. Sam still couldn't tell a difference in his legs but he hoped that would come in time. Dean had also taken to wrestling and training with Sam in case something got a hold of him and he needed a way to fight back. It was tough with Sam not being able to move his legs but Dean was helping him and teaching him well.

"Okay. I think we're done." Dean got Sam into a sitting position, ready to train. However Dean grabbed him under his armpits and hoisted him back into his wheelchair.

"I thought we were going to train?" Sam asked. He was getting used to the routine. And after training Sam would help Dean with homework and reading and then they would research if needed.

"Nah, we'll skip that today. I've gotta show you something." Dean grinned and before Sam could do anything he grabbed a hold of the handle bars on his wheelchair and pushed him forward towards the door, tossing him his coat.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked with curiosity as Dean continued to push him outside into the cold and right up to the Impala.

"Ta-da!" Dean said once they reached the car but Sam just raised an eyebrow.

"Umm...it's the Impala..." he said slowly and uncertainly, not understanding Dean's excitement.

"Look inside." Dean grinned and Sam rolled himself right up to the window and peered inside the car. There was some kind of lever attached near the steering wheel and Sam's heart clenched with love for his brother as he realized what Dean had done.

"Dean...you...I..." he stuttered, unable to form words.

"Shut up and get inside." Dean smiled happily and when Sam didn't move Dean picked him up and placed him in the driver's seat.

"I...I don't know how to drive though! I'm not old enough!" Sam protested. This was just too overwhelming.

"Dude, Dad taught me to drive when I was twelve. Hunters don't care about legal matters as you've learned."

"You didn't have to do this Dean," Sam told him genuinely.

"Dad helped out too. And you didn't have to help me with my reading either, I'm just paying you back." Dean pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, filling the car up with fresh smoke. "Hey, I'm keeping to my pack a day contract, you know that? Yesterday one of them fell out of the pack so I only had nineteen."

Sam smiled. Yeah, Dean wasn't cutting back but he was keeping his word. That was a start.

"But yeah, don't worry I tested this thing out and it works great." Dean beamed from behind a cloud of smoke.

"But you'll have to use it too? I don't want you to have to do that." Sam resisted the urge to cough since all the smoke was staying inside of the car with no windows opened.

"No. I can. But I can use the pedals too." That information made Sam feel a bit better.

"Where did you guys have time to do this, and where'd you find someplace able to get it from?" he asked and motioned towards the mechanical stick.

"We have our ways." Dean smirked.

"Thank you Dean. Really....this means a lot to me." Sam couldn't believe how good Dean was to him, he didn't deserve such a great brother.

"No need to thank me Sammy," Dean answered. "Enough of this chit-chat. It's time I teach you how to drive little brother!"

* * *

Dean was an excellent driving instructor. Sam had been able to use the stick and drive around side streets, even though he went extremely slow. Driving was one of the things Sam thought he'd never be able to do and Dean gave that to him. He could drive all on his own! Just like everyone else! Sure it was a little different but who cared!

Sam was still overwhelmed that he just had his first driving lesson when Dean burst through their bedroom and started grabbing a bunch of guns in the dresser drawers.

"Dean, what's going on?" Sam couldn't help but panic.

"Dad needs my help, he just called. It turns out there's a clan of vamps, not just one. God, I wish I didn't have to leave you but I have to choice Sammy. I'm sorry but I just can't risk you getting hurt." Dean's voice sounded strained as he hurried to pack his things.

"It's okay Dean, don't worry about it." Sam didn't want to give his brother another reason to worry even though he was terrified of being all alone.

"Okay. Gotta check the salt lines." Dean lit a cigarette. He ran around the house, fixing the lines and smoking before jumping in the shower to wash the smell off the best he could and grabbed some clean clothes. He snatched a couple Nicotine patches that he had now gone to buying since he couldn't smoke on hunts and chewing gum would be too loud. He slapped one on under his sleeve and grabbed his bag. "I should be back in three hours tops...god I hate this! I don't want to leave you!" 

"Dean, I'll be fine. I'm a big boy," Sam tried to joke but Dean still looked worried and walked over to give Sam a quick hug.

"I'll be back as soon as possible. I promise you Sammy. All the devil's traps are in place as are the salt lines. Stay in bed 'cause it's under a trap. Just...please look out for yourself. God, if something happened to you when I'm not here...."

"Dean. I'll be fine. You're the one hunting. You be careful. I will stay safe." Sam gave him a quick smile.

"Okay." Dean nodded. "I'll be back before you know it Sammy."

* * *

Sam woke up with a start, angry that he had fallen asleep. He glanced at the clock and gasped when he saw the time. Two in the morning. Dean had left at eight. That was six hours and Dean had said three tops.

Sam reached over and grabbed the cell phone John had bought for him and dialed Dean's number. He got no response and then dialed his father's.

 _Beep. The number you've dialed has either been disconnected or...._

Crap, crap, crap! This was not good! Something had happened to his dad's phone and Dean wasn't answering. Something was horribly wrong and Sam could feel that they were in danger. His father and brother were out there on the hunt, hurt or possibly even....

 _NO_. He would _not_ think that. He couldn't. They were going to be okay and Sam was going to find them. He wasn't losing the family he had always wanted.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam knew that something had to be wrong with Dean and John. John had always told him that if he had to call him while on a hunt he would answer as soon as he possibly could and would check for missed alerts. And Dean...Sam knew that his big brother would find a way to get back to him as soon as possible. Plus, Dean had told him he'd be back in three hours and it was now past six hours. Something was definitely wrong.

Sam pushed himself up in bed and reached over to spin his wheelchair so it was facing him. He grabbed the handlebars and very easily got himself positioned in the chair after so many years of doing it. He placed his feet on the foot rests and went to wheel himself over to the window. If Dean by some miracle had not taken the Impala then Sam could drive it. But of course the Impala was gone, it was Dean's car after all. Sam sighed as he realized even if the Impala had been there, he would have no possible way to get the wheelchair folded up and into the backseat.

What was he going to do? He needed to find his dad and brother!

Sam felt his hands shaking and willed them to stop. He couldn't get scared now, he needed to be brave like Dean and his dad always were. And even though he wanted to take off right now and go search for them, he knew he had to be realistic.

Sam made his way over to his father's bedroom and to the desk that was placed there. He dug through the drawers where he knew John kept the research that Sam and Dean did for him. Sam found what he was looking for when he pulled out a stack of research papers he remembered doing with his brother.

Reading it through Sam saw that the vampires were located a couple towns over, about five miles away. John had jotted down some notes on the paper of where he thought the vampires were located. He had noted something about an old shack in the middle of the forest. Sam nodded to himself, this was good. Now he knew where his brother and father probably were, if they were still.....

No! He would not think that! Dean and John had been hunting for a long time and they had been out there together! They were both fine! Just ran into some trouble, nothing more.

Sam folded up the research and pocketed it after a couple more minutes of going over it. He then opened up the chest of weapons his father kept in his room and tried to think of the best ones to use.

He remembered John telling him which knife would work best against which creature. He saw the long curved knife and remembered that worked best against vampires. Sam grabbed that and also grabbed a smaller knife and a bottle of dead man's blood. What else was there to use....? Sam wracked his brain to try to remember but came up with nothing. His mind was telling him there was something else that could be used but he just couldn't think of it.

He shook his head, he was just thinking too hard! There was nothing else that needed to be brought. He dipped the knives in the dead man's blood and then wrapped them up in a little towel. He tucked the knifes into his big hoodie pocket to hide them.

Sam barely even registered that he might come face to face with a clan of vampires as he called for a taxi. All he could think about was getting his family back.

* * *

**Earlier that night**

Dean had met up with John who had told him that it apparently were only two vampires and that he had followed them to the edges of the forest. He didn’t want to go into the dark wood without backup so he had called for Dean.

Dean suppressed a smile. Since when was his father so reasonable? Anyway, between them it shouldn’t be a problem finding and killing the vampires. Then he would call Sammy and tell him that they were okay and on their way back.

He was walking behind his dad in the dark and they were both fully alert. They had to be careful because vampires had great night vision and could pounce on them any minute. They both froze when they heard a small movement from behind them. Just a second later a shot rang through the air and Dean felt something hot buzz past him just beneath his right ear.

"Shit, they have guns", John gasped. Dean knew what he had to do. Run. They had to get out of sight of the vampires, and somehow try to get behind them. He resisted the urge to pull out his own gun and fire a few rounds. It would be futile. Even if he landed a hit at one of the vamps the effect would be close to nothing, except that the muzzle flare would give away his exact position.

John took off in a sprint and Dean wasn't far behind him for the first ten seconds. He ran in zigzags, trying to throw off the vampires. Then however, Dean began to slow down as a nagging pain in his stomach made itself aware. Dean knew it was his stitches getting irritated. He hadn't been taking it very easy lately and the stitches weren't healing very well at all. The site actually had begun to look red and Dean thought it might be infected. He hadn't said anything about it but the pain had been getting worse on this hunt because he had been over-exerting himself. And the fact that Dean needed a smoke very badly didn't make this any easier.

Dean fought to keep up with his father and ignore the pain. However, it fogged his senses and Dean tripped over a root in the forest floor and ended up sprawled on the ground.

Usually Dean would jump right back up but the pain in his side was now blinding and he had to work on not passing out. Touching the site he felt a sticky substance on his fingers. Great, his stitches had ripped, just fricken' great!

More shots rang through the forest and Dean knew he had to get up, but his eyes were clouding over with pain and he just couldn't find the strength to do so.

"Dean, you alright son? What's wrong?" With his eyes constantly searching the surroundings, John tried to help him up.

Dean tried to focus on his father's face but it was just a blur in the dark.

"Stitches ripped...bleeding...." he moaned.

"We gotta get out of here." John pulled him into a sitting position, ignoring his moan of pain. "Now."

Dean stumbled to his feet, suddenly realizing what consequences his bleeding held for them. The scent of blood would make the vamps go crazy and they would be even more bound to get to them. They had to do something to get away and attack them from behind.

"Come on," John urged, steadying him. But Dean already knew they were toast.

"I don't think that will be happening," a sly voice came from the trees and before either of them knew what was going on they were both being knocked out by the two vampires around them.

* * *

"Wakey wakey, pretty boy."

Dean groaned at the sound of the voice and let out a short scream when freezing water was poured on him, making him shiver violently. His eyes were wide open but he was having trouble concentrating. Okay, he was leaning against the wall, tied up like a turkey. Great. He seemed to be in some sort of wooden building, dimly lit by a pair of vintage lanterns. Right, the vampires' nest was in an old shack. It seemed they had found it. It was a two room cabin and this seemed to be the bedroom. A big bed stood at the wall opposite of him and a female vampire was sitting on it. If not for the fangs that she openly displayed she would have been a pretty woman. She was tiny but Dean knew that never mattered when it came to fricken' vamps.

"Dad?" Dean slurred, looking around him, desperately searching for his father. Was he still alive? Dean felt remorse crush down on him. It was all his fault. They had gotten snatched by the vamps all because of his stupid stitches. Why couldn't he have taken it easy? If he had then none of this would be happening!

"Your precious daddy is over there." Reluctantly, Dean finally looked up at his captors. The one talking to him was a male vampire, shorter than him but more muscular.

"He pointed over his shoulder where Dean could see John who was also tied up. It looked like he had taken a couple punches already. Dean could tell that John was working hard to think of a way to escape by his passive face. That was the face he always used when he was thinking up something. Yeah, Dad would get them out of this...he had to...because Dean had to make it back to Sammy. He couldn't leave his little brother alone.

It was actually sort of funny. Before, if Dean was put in a life-threatening situation he wouldn't have cared so much about dying. Not that he had wanted to die...but he was ready for it and would accept death when it came. But now...now Dean had a reason to live. He wanted to make it out of this because Sammy needed him. Sam couldn't lose his family he just got. It was Dean's responsibility to protect him and keep him safe. Sam needed him. And not just that.... for the first time Dean actually _wanted_ to live because of Sam. He actually was looking forward to his life. It was like his little brother gave him hope. He was looking forward to his life with Sam by his side.

"So, what do you think you were doing all alone in the woods with these knives and guns? Don't tell me you were on a vampire hunt?" The male laughed out loud.

Dean bit his lip. His side was aching and his brain was fuzzy. He hoped John would come up with a plan and soon. Otherwise they had no chance of getting out of this alive.

"Not going to answer me huh? Well it doesn't matter." The male sneered and gave some signal to the female. She smirked and bent down beside Dean. Automatically, he tried to recoil away from her.

"It's okay cutie, you'll still have a while to live. We're going to make this as long and painful as possible. Enjoy." She pulled up Dean's t-shirt and began feeding off of his newly re-opened wound, biting her teeth into his flesh.

Despite his best efforts Dean let out a scream of pain which made John jerk upwards and growl.

"Get the fuck away from my son. If you want to hurt anyone, hurt me."

"Oh we'll hurt you all right. But your son gave us first dibs to his body already." The male gestured to Dean's wound. "Don't worry we won't totally waste him before he gets to see you cry out in pain."

Dean tried to pull away from the freak but her jaws were clamped tightly around his stomach and every time he pulled it just hurt that much more. He felt sick with each gulp she took from him and his body shook with disgust. She finally stopped and pulled away. Her fangs retreated and Dean saw his own blood spilling down her chin.

"He's delicious honey, you should try some," she purred to the male and he glared down at Dean with hunger in his eyes.

"Don't mind if I do." He smirked before plunging his own fangs into Dean's side. But this time Dean was ready and even though it hurt like hell, he wasn't going to cry out this time.

He felt himself get weaker as his father called out for him to hold on. God, this sucked and he really really needed a smoke. Like horribly bad. Speaking of smokes....

The vamp pulled away from Dean after about five gulps. "Now what do we have here?" He reached into Dean's pocket and pulled out his half empty pack of cigarettes. "Ahh, my second favorite thing," he smiled. Reaching into Dean's pocket again, he pulled out the lighter. "I knew I smelt cigarette smoke on you kid. Made it just a little bit easier to track you down." He laughed and put one the cigarettes into his mouth and lit it, taking a long drag.

Dean hated himself for pulling towards the smell of the smoke. God, his head was pounding and his eyes were burning. He just wanted one so badly....

"Honey, looks like little hunter wants a bit. You care to share with him?" The female laughed causing the male to smirk and hold out the cigarette just out of Dean's reach.

"Come on boy, it's alright...you can have a drag..." he teased and Dean fought not to give in but the cigarette was _right there_ and he hadn't had one in freakin' hours and...

Dean pulled his head up to take a drag when the vamp pulled it away, laughing. It did it a couple more times, enjoying the show.

"God, it's like playing with a dog!" The male chuckled.

"I think you should give him a reward for being such a good boy." The female giggled back.

"Okay, here. Go on take a drag, I won't tease you this time, go on." The vampire put the cigarette right up to Dean's face. Dean saw his father glaring at him, silently telling him not to give into their games. But he just couldn't do it... _I'm sorry Dad..._

Dean pulled forward and opened his mouth around the cigarette and took a long drag. The filter had a bit of his own blood on it from the vamps lips and it made Dean want to gag. But the feeling of the smoke filling his lungs and the nicotine coursing through his body was like heaven on him. God, he was disgusting. He blew the smoke out and automatically went for another drag..and again...and again...

"Woah, not the whole thing buddy. Geeze, this one is pathetic." The male shook his head and pulled the cigarette away to take a drag himself.

"I like him, he's fun. Maybe we could keep him." The woman cocked her head to the male. Dean knew exactly what she was suggesting.

"No goddammit! I'm not going to turn into one of you bastards!" he growled and fought against his restraints weakly.

"No he's right. He's much too weak. You see how easily he gave in to that cigarette? He wouldn't last a week." The male shrugged and took one last drag. Bending down, he put out the cigarette right on Dean's open wound.

Dean couldn't help it this time and he let out a long wail, tears falling out of his eyes as his wound burned horribly. He was beginning to feel light headed again.

"Dean, you hold on son. We're going to get out of this," he heard his father call out. Dean wanted to believe him...he really did...

"Not if I have anything to say about it." The male smirked and bent down to suck on Dean's ash filled wound.


	14. Chapter 14

"You sure that's were you want to be?" The taxi driver who had placed the wheelchair next to Sam, looked around skeptically. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." Sam pulled himself into the wheelchair before the man could even offer to help. He held his breath. What if the taxi driver decided that a minor in a wheelchair had no business at the forest's border in the middle of the night? He would be screwed.

The driver scratched his head, clearly feeling uncomfortable at leaving his young passenger alone. But then he seemed to decide that it wasn't his business and just shrugged. "Take care," he advised Sam and went back around the car to the driver's seat.

With mixed feelings Sam watched the taxi leave. He was all alone now, but on the other hand he was glad that there weren't any people around. It would be hard to explain why a crippled boy made his way into the woods at 3:30 am. He managed to get to the edge of the woods and sighed. He wasn't looking forward to this, but at least the snow had melted during the last days, so it should be easier to maneuver his wheelchair.

At first he had little difficulty moving forward, but it got tough when he got further into the woods. There were a lot of rocks and roots that he hit a couple times and he had to wheel his way around them. The pale moon gave only little light, but Sam noticed fresh footprints in the mud. He couldn't believe his luck that he might have found John and Dean's trail so easily. But it had to be their prints. Who else would go into the woods in a cold winter night? Excited that he found a lead so quickly, he didn't notice the tree root sticking out of the forest floor. His left wheel caught on it and Sam fell forward and out of his wheelchair. He barely had time to get his arms in front of him as he fell.

Sam groaned from the awkward position that he was in, his front body sprawled out on the ground while his legs tangled in the foot rests. He managed to free himself and get into a sitting position. Crap, this was harder than he had imagined. Sam just thought he would make his way into the woods and find Dean and John. He hadn't exactly thought of how difficult moving in the forest would be.

He tried to clear his head as he pulled back up into his wheelchair. He had never pitied himself, but now he wished he could walk. He wanted to save his family, they needed him and here he was falling over stinking tree roots!

But thoughts like these wouldn't help Dean and John. Sam had to keep going. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring a simple flashlight! He knew he had been forgetting something earlier and that was it! A flashlight should have been the first thing he thought of bringing. He still had a lot to learn about becoming a hunter.

Continuing on his way, Sam tried to follow the footprints further. He had to stop often and squint his eyes to spot them in the dim moonlight. Suddenly the prints were gone. The ground was covered with rotting leaves and not even John's heavy boots had left any marks here. Sam almost panicked. What should he do now? For the first time he realized what situation he had gotten himself into. He was alone deep in the woods and had barely an idea in which direction the town was. What if he couldn't find Dean and John? Maybe they weren't even here anymore. Maybe they were back at the motel already worrying sick because Sam was gone. He closed his eyes for a moment, shivering in the cold. "Sam Winchester, you pull yourself together now," he mumbled and the sound of his new-found last name comforted him in a strange way. He would find that cabin. How difficult could it be?

Sam scanned the surroundings and thought he could make out something like a dirt road not too far away. It was a place as good as any other to continue his search so he began wheeling himself forward. His hands were cold and clammy but manoeuvring was easier on the leaves.

The dirt road was exactly that. Dirty. Sam thought he could see faint tire prints at the edges of the road. Did the vampires have a car? The vehicle could also belong to a lumberjack, but it was worth a shot. Sam didn't have any other leads anyway, so he followed the dirt road deeper into the forest.

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks and suppressed a small cry of surprise. In the middle of a small clearing, at the end of the dirt road, there was a small cabin. Sam started to tremble as he realized that he had found what he had been searching for.

He felt around for the towel, making sure the knives were still safely tucked in it. So what now? He had to make sure that this was the vampires' nest. Had to know if Dean and John were in there. But he had no clue how to get to that knowledge. Knocking at the door and asking the friendly vampire if he had seen Sam's family? He cringed. Not such a good idea. There was some light coming out from the windows, maybe he could look through them. Maybe he was lucky and the vampires were asleep. But vampires were creatures of the night, weren't they? Sam was confused. He still knew way too little about these supernatural beings.

Sam debated with himself what to do. Getting caught when he peered through the windows would put him at a disadvantage. Maybe the blunt approach would be the best one. People tended to underestimate him because he was in a wheelchair. So perhaps he could use his disability to his advantage. He just needed a good story and the sheer luck that he would be met with one vamp at a time.

* * *

John was shivering. It was ice cold, but the shiver didn't come from the temperature. Dean hadn't moved since the vampire had fed on him. His head hung onto his chest and as far as John could see he was pale as a sheet. If it wasn't for the slow heaving of his chest, John would have feared his son was dead. How in hell had he managed to get his boy into this situation? He had known that Dean was injured. He should never had called him for backup.

But it wasn't Dean's fault. John didn't blame him. He blamed himself. He should have known. But his self-reproach didn't help now. Dean's wound needed attention. And fast.

John cast a glance over to the bed where the two vampires were laying. After feeding off of Dean they settled there and John had to listen to their noises when they made out. It was plain disgusting and he knew they would be hungry when they eventually stopped. Another shiver whacked his body. He had lost his sense of time but he was sure it had been hours since they had been captured.

The male vampire smirked at him. "Shivering in anticipation?" he asked, his eyes glued to John's carotid artery. He got up and put his pants on when there was a rustling in the other room. It was the old door creaking open.

The vampire exchanged a look with the female. She shrugged. "Nobody knows we're here," she whispered.

The male got his gun. "You think there aren't more where these two came from? You stay here," he ordered in a low voice. "See that none of those two make a sound. I'll have a look who's visiting us so early in the morning." He hid the gun behind his back and walked out the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

___________________________________________________________________________

The door wasn't locked. Sam pulled it open and carefully made his way into the cabin. He had hoped that he would find Dean and John here but apart from some trash lying around, the room was empty. He was halfway through the door, when a young man came rushing from the other room and closed the door like he had something to hide. "Who are you?" he bellowed. "What do you want here?"

Sam didn't have to act to put a frightened face on. He was scared shitless. What the hell was he thinking? He could never stand up to a vampire. But it was too late now.

"I... I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I didn't know that someone was here. I was searching for a shelter. It's so cold outside." He bit his lip and forced tears into his eyes, which wasn't so hard at the thought that this man maybe had already killed his father and brother. "Please help me. My foster brothers..." He sniffed. "They thought it would be a good joke to bring me here into the forest and leave me there. I've been trying to find out of here since the evening. I'm so tired and cold and... please, could you bring me back?" Tears were now streaming freely down his cheeks. Sniffing again, he wiped them away, successfully trying to look miserable.

The vampire relaxed and cracked a smile. "Yeah, I'll help you," he reassured Sam. "You have to get warm first. I'll get a blanket from the bedroom. It'll take me just a minute." With another smile the man disappeared in the other room.

___________________________________________________________________________

John pretended not to be interested in what was going on in the other room, but he strained his ears to hear something. Perhaps this was help. If he could yell to the unexpected visitor, maybe they could help them. On the other hand, John knew that he would rather sign their death sentence in doing that, except if it was another hunter out there. Could that be? Could another hunter had found this vampire's nest?

His heart sank, though, when the vampire re-entered the bedroom with a broad grin on his face. It wasn't a hunter.

"You'll never guess what entered our cabin," he chuckled to the female and lay the gun into a drawer. "A cute young boy, lost in the wilderness of these woods." He smirked. "His foster brothers cast him out, left him here all alone. And he's crippled, sitting in a wheelchair."

John bit his lip, hard, to suppress a surprised exclamation. It was Sam. How the hell had the boy been able to find this shack? And what was he thinking, stumbling right into a vampires' nest? John's worry was mixed with anger. He would tell his son... Sighing, he closed his eyes. More likely than not he wouldn't tell Sam anything ever again.

His fears were confirmed when he heard the female squeal. "Young boys are tasty. Can we keep him for desert?"

"Of course we can. We'll have a lot of fun with him." The male took a blanket from the bed. "The poor boy is shivering. Can't have his blood clotting from the cold, can we?"

"I'll help you," the female offered eagerly.

"You watch our other guests. I'll bring the boy in. I'm looking forward to seeing his face when he discovers our little party going on here."

Again, John watched the vampire leave the room and the only thing he could hope for was seeing his boy once again before they all would be dead.


	15. Chapter 15

 

Sam's heart pounded like mad. He had only one try. He reached into his hoodie pocket carefully and removed the towel around the smaller knife. He remembered John telling him that dead man's blood hurt a vampire the worst if it was stabbed in the heart. But the man was tall and Sam had no chance of reaching his heart with a knife. He had to come up with a plan very fast.

He leaned to the side and purposely tipped the wheelchair over. Good thing, that he had so much experience falling out of the chair, he though grimly. He lay on his stomach, knife hidden beneath him when the man came back.

"Hey, what happened to you?" he asked playfully.

"I don't know," Sam whined. "The floor is uneven. I fell and I can't get up."

"I'll help you. It would be best if I carry you into the bedroom. There you can lie down on the bed and rest a while before I bring you back."

"Yeah, thank you," Sam muttered, turning his head to look up at the vampire. "You're very kind."

"You think?" The man bent down and gripped Sam under the armpits to turn him over. Sam used the momentum and pushed his hand with the knife up, right into the vampires heart. The creature didn't even have the time to look surprised before he fell down to the floor with a gurgle, and didn't move anymore.

Sam was shaking. He knew what he had to do now. He took the other knife out of the towel.

 _With just the right momentum, this thing could take a vampire's head clean off in one swing._ Sam remembered his father informing him. But the thought of killing something that looked so human....could he do it??? Would this make him some sort of murderer?

 _These things are evil Sammy. They kill innocent people and take lives without thinking twice. What we do is saving lives. These creatures need to be killed and that's a hunter's job._ This time it was Dean's voice that quickly ran through his head. He swallowed. This thing needed to be stopped. Needed to be killed. He raised the knife to chop off the vampire's head.

But he couldn't do it. He wasn't a hunter. He was a 14 year-old boy that was shivering with fear. He couldn't kill a man, even if it was a vampire. He just couldn't. Cursing his weakness, he covered the knife with the towel. He had to find out if John and Dean were in the other room. Maybe John could take care of the gruesome details.

___________________________________________________________________________

The female looked up when she heard a short yelp coming from the other room, followed by a thud. Alarmed, she got up and made her way to the door. "You!" she hissed at John. "Keep your mouth shut or the boy is dead."

When she got into the other room, she saw her mate lying on the floor and a boy sitting beside him with a towel in his hands.

"What the hell did you do to him?" she screeched. The boy looked up at her, a shocked expression on his face. Apparently, he had thought her mate was alone in the cabin.

"I... nothing," he stuttered. "I think he's not feeling well. He grabbed his head and fell down." The boy's bottom lip began to tremble. "Please. Can you help him? He was so kind to me and he promised to bring me back home."

She exhaled. What was she thinking? That this crippled kid with his wheelchair lying behind him was some weird kind of hunter? She should thank him for getting out of the chair to help her mate. Yes, she should really do that before she fed off of him. She could see his carotid artery pulsing at his throat and licked her lips in anticipation. But first she had to see what was wrong with her mate.

"Vincent?" she shouted. "Quit the games. Get up!" She bowed down over him, turning him around. What had happened to him? He was invincible, wasn't he? Her eyes widened when she saw the bloody knife sticking out of his chest. With unbelievable rage welling up inside her she turned to the boy, baring her fangs, when she felt a sharp pain radiating through her body. Looking down she saw another knife sticking out her own chest, the handle still in the hand of the crippled boy. With a loud howl she yanked the knife out of her body, turning it around. But the moment she tried to stab him all strength seemed to leak out of her and she sagged down over the still unmoving body of her mate.

Sam's teeth were clattering when he realized how close he had come to being stabbed himself. Still lying on the floor he wouldn't have any option to get out of the way. He looked at the woman. He hadn't known that there was another vampire in the bedroom. Maybe there were even more. “Hello?” he asked tentatevily.

"Sam!" he heard his father yell. "You there?" Relief washed over him. They were here and obviously alive.

"I'm coming, dad," he cried. Carefully he wriggled the knife out of the vampires hand and made his way over to the other room. He looked at his wheelchair but it would have taken him too long to set it up and get into it. Time was of the essence. He had no idea how long the vampires would be out cold. He crawled over the floor as fast as he could, his legs dragging behind him. Luckily, the female didn't close the door behind her, that spared him some time.

He stopped, though, when his eyes fell on Dean. The pale face and the bloody side screamed at him that his brother was dead. Swallowing, he shot his father a panicked look.

"He's alive, Sam," John hurried to reassure him. "Are they dead?"

"No," Sam confessed, blushing. "I stabbed them both with dead man's blood, but I couldn't chop their heads off. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, son." John's voice held sympathy and understanding, but sounded urgent. "Come here with that knife. You have to free me."

Sam crawled over and freed his father's hands. John took the knife and cut the ropes around his ankles. "Look after Dean," he ordered curtly and ran out the door.

Pulling himself over the uneven floor, Sam couldn't hold the tears at bay any longer. And this time they were real. "Dean," he cried.

At the sound of the familiar voice Dean seemed to come back from his state of unconsciousness. Blearily, he blinked with his head still hung down.

"Dean! What have these bastards done to you?" Sam reached his brother and cupped his face in his hands.

Dean blinked at him confusedly. "Sam? What? What are you doing here? Why are you here? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not. What's with you?"

"I'm good. Just ripped my stitches and had to serve the vamps dinner." Dean grimaced when he saw Sam's shocked face. "I'm fine, really. But how did you get here?"

"Your heroic brother saved our lives, Dean." John was standing in the door, the long knife in his hands dripping with fresh blood.

"Is it done?" Sam asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, it's done."

"What is done?" Dean was still confused.

"I couldn't chop off their heads, Dean." Sam swallowed. "I stabbed them with dead man's blood, but when it came to killing them, I chickened out. I'm so sorry."

John let the knife fall to the ground and kneeled down to take Sam into his arms. "I'm sorry you had to go through that all, Sammy. You didn't chicken out, son. No one can ask chopping the head off of something that looks so human from a 14-year-old. I'm so proud of you. You saved us."

"Really?" Sam smiled through his tears.

"Really." John hugged him fiercely.

Dean cleared his throat. " I would like to hug Sam too, Dad, but I'm a bit tied up here."

John laughed out loud and all the tension fell off of them. He grabbed the knife, not minding its bloody surface and cut Dean's bindings.

Dean rubbed his sore wrists for a moment before he pulled Sam into a hug.

"You're so brave." He smiled. "That's just another reason to love you."

Sam felt his heart still and then beat wildly at hearing those words. No one had ever old him that they loved him. He never had those words spoken to him once in his life.

"You... you love me?" he asked nervously.

Dean looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course I love you Sammy. You're my little brother, my best friend."

Sam would never tell Dean how much those words meant to him, though he was pretty sure Dean had a good idea. "I love you too Dean." Sam knew it was cheesy but it was true and needed to be said. Sam didn't think Dean was told those words too much either.

Dean just smiled weakly and clamped Sam's shoulder. "I want to hear every detail of your first hunt, when we're back in the motel. I think you'd make one hell of a hunter, wheelchair or not. You're good Sammy."

John smiled at them. "You two just stay here and rest for a while. I'll take care of the bodies. I guess the vamps wouldn't mind us using their car to get back." He looked at Dean. "We have to restitch your wound, Dean as soon as possible."

"We?" Sam looked at his father with big eyes.

"Yes, we." John patted Sam's shoulder. "Or do you want to explain to the doctors in the hospital why Dean has several teeth marks in his re-opened wound?"

Sam nodded in understanding and sighed. "I guess not."

Dean cracked a smile. "Think he's ready to learn to actually hunt Dad?" he asked, voice still weak.

John looked at both his sons with affection. "Yeah son, I think he is." He ruffled Sam's hair. "I think it's time you meet a friend of ours."

* * *

**One Week Later**

Dean pulled the Impala to a stop behind John's truck and smiled at Sam who sat in the passenger seat. "You're going to love Bobby. He can be tough sometimes but it's only because he cares."

Sam saw his brother reach for his cigarettes and then think twice before pulling his hand away. Dean had been bed-ridden for three days, mostly because John had forced him to but Dean had needed it. John had fixed him up and re-did his stitches, showing Sam how to do the procedure. Dean was ordered to lie in bed and take it easy. He had slept most of the time which had actually did a number on lowering his cigarette count. Dean hadn't realized until later that during that time he had only smoked 15 instead of 20. It wasn't a lot but it was a start. Dean wasn't just going to magically stop smoking one day, but he was determined to stick to 15 a day now.

They both got out of the Impala and Sam wasn't afraid to admit that he was a little scared of meeting John and Dean's friend. They made their way through a junkyard of old cars with John and it looked like Bobby had cleared a path for him to reach the house. That made him feel a little better.

John knocked and a hunter about his father's age opened the door. He had a thin beard and hair that was starting to gray. He was wearing a baseball cap, which gave him a gruff look. Dean was right, he did look tough but then he smiled and Sam relaxed.

He exchanged quick hugs with both John and Dean before facing Sam. Sam was genuinely surprised when the man bent down to give him a quick hug.

"Finally I get to meet the long lost Winchester. Just lookin' at ya' I can tell you're part of this family. Welcome Sam." He gave Sam a friendly handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Sam said politely.

"Ah screw the manners kid." Bobby said with a wave of his hand. "Here those don't matter.You'll get used to me in no time."

"Sammy here's going to need some practice for hunting. Think we can stay here a while and train?" John asked and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. It was obvious John had already told Bobby what had happened on the hunt.

"If I could help train your brother, I can train anyone." Bobby winked at Sam and laughed.

"Hey! I wasn't that bad!" Dean butted in causing both John and Bobby to roll their eyes.

Sam felt himself relax into the friendly atmosphere and he felt at ease. He knew this was where he belonged. He was meant to hunt with his family. He was meant to be with John and Dean and Bobby. Sam smiled, loving his new lifestyle.

He could do this, he could become a hunter.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! Of this story anyway...
> 
> I have two sequels posted on my fanfiction account under the same penname (I will work on getting them posted here as well). Gabi and I also have a fourth story in the works which will be completed soon!
> 
> Special thanks to Gabi for helping me with ideas and being my 'co-author'! The story wouldn't be as great without your help! Also, she did an amazing job re-writing the majority of the vampire hunt, four years ago when I originally wrote it, it was not as logical or well-thought out.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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